


Eve of Destruction

by TheLadyFrost



Series: Eve of Destruction [2]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Parasite Eve, Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Consensual Non-Consent, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Eventual Smut, Graphic Description of Corpses, Impregnation, Multi, Orgy, Psychological Horror, Spontaneous Combustion, Strong Female Characters, Strong sexual themes, Survival Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-01-07 10:21:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 123,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18408680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadyFrost/pseuds/TheLadyFrost
Summary: The dawning of creation - the world before mankind was even a flicker. Life - emerges. She's the mother of a new dawn. She's the start of the world without sin. To bring about a rebirth - first she must destroy it all. She just needs the right soldiers to start the war.Crossover fic - Resident Evil and Parasite Eve. Not canon compliant to suit the nature of the story.





	1. Chapter 1

 

****

* * *

 

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**November, 2013 –**

**The First Eve**

* * *

**7:16 pm**

* * *

Megan couldn't stay awake. The car tried, twice, to alert her to driving outside the lines of the road it could sense beneath the piles of pretty white snow. It bleeped. It alarmed. It made a valid attempt to keep her awake.

But she'd been awake for almost forty eight hours.

Her birthday was always a trying time. Besides the dreams, there was the insomnia. The insomnia was almost worse than the dreams. The dreams were convoluted. They were never something she could really grasp and keep hold of when she woke. She'd spent years and thousands of dollars trying to revisit them, recapture them, analyze and determine why she was having them.

Why only on her birthday?

Why only when her body aged another year?

Why did the dreams keep her from sleeping? She had them awake. She had them walking and talking and working. She'd broken her femur and wrist last year walking while day dreaming and tumbled into a manhole on Fifth Avenue. She couldn't get passed the dreams.

She didn't understand anything she could remember from them. It wasn't human. It felt prehistoric. It felt like something that existed before the world made any sense. The dreams were millions of years old when life was just cells and simplicity trying to evolve.

What did the doctor call it? Endosymbiotic - existence before the symbiosis between mitochondria and cells that was the precursor to all life as they knew it. She'd done some digging - finding plenty of information regarding how life began. It was a series of things that told her that the things in her dream must be mitochondria attempting to merge with chloroplasts. They may have joined the other cell by being eaten - which the books all called phagocytosis- or perhaps they were parasites of that host cell. The process of life beginning by being eaten by other life appalled her.

Why was she dreaming of cannibalism?

She had no answers.

She had more questions.

She had no sleep and the hospital wasn't helping. As a resident, she was always on call. She practically lived at the hospital. The only reason she was out in the snow now was looking for a Starbucks before she died of sleep deprivation. She needed some caffeine - S.T.A.T.

But the cells slid around her vision and blinded her. Fat ones. Small ones. Mitochondria, the important energy generators of our existence, evolved from free-living cells. They later merged and became a host of a single living organism...but what she was seeing, it wasn't a that. It was life before  _life._ It was the dawning of creation. It was the world reduced to a single free living cell that consumed and destroyed.

How?

She was a doctor. How was any of it possible?

Because what she was seeing wasn't possible. It was theorized, it was suggested, but it was never proven. A scientist named Lynn Margulis(*1) put all of this information together and published it in 1967. Her paper was called "On the origin of mitosing cells". She suggested that cells were once free cycling. She almost proved it. It was taken as gospel in some circles now.

But it wasn't proven. What she was seeing on the windshield of her car...that proved it. The Eukaryota cells, nucleus, Golgi apparatus, endoplasmic reticulum, lysosomes, and cytoskeleton - all of it was being...eaten by the mitochondria. The mitochondria was consuming it. But the science didn't support that. It couldn't. It was wrong.

It was  _right there._

Mitochondria was the source of all life.

The proof was on her windshield.

The proof was right there.

But why did it ma-

The tree. The tree. THE TREE. She tried to brake. She tried to stop. She swerved and the snow stopped her escape. No.

Her voice broke, "... _wait!"_

The scream of metal and the stench of sulfur. The pain. The horrible, horrible pain. Her hands grabbed for the empty, shattered, cracked and naked windshield. She'd been dreaming and driving.

Her dreams had finally finished her off.

Her hand slumped. Her purse was over turned in the seat beside her. Her things had spilled into the wreckage of glass and twisted metal. Her badge from the hospital. Her wallet - open to her license.

Her name. Her birthday. Her height and weight.

And the tiny heart at the bottom. A tiny symbol with so much meaning. A tiny thing, red and promising - she was an organ donor.

* * *

**8:19 p.m.**

* * *

"It won't work."

"You can't know that. We have to try. Everything, all of it, it's a match."

Their faces were obscured by the flicker of light from the monitor. "...it might kill her."  
"She's already dead, William. Maybe this is what  _brings her back."_

The quiet beep of the machines. The soft whoosh of the heat kicking on. The snow beyond the window like a look into his soul. He was cold inside. Hope had died so long ago.

And so he answered, "...do it. Prepare the brain transplant."

It was the only chance his daughter had. But if she woke up...would she even be his daughter anymore?

There was only one way to find out.

* * *

**10: 00 a.m.**

* * *

The flashes of light signaled the pictures being taken at the press conference. In his white lab coat, William Birkin stood proud and tall beside the excited face of his wife. She spoke with authority, with purpose, with pride, "At 11 p.m. last night, we successfully completed the first ever brain transplant. Using a donor brain from an unfortunate car accident, we were able to reanimate the comatose body of our daughter Sherry. This has never been successful in the history of medicine. Using strains of my husband's brilliant invention, The Golgotha Virus, we were able to reanimate the dead tissues of Sherry's nerves and body to acclimate and accept the donated brain. This morning, her electroencephalogram revealed electrical impulses synonymous with a fully functioning brain."

The murmurs of shock and awe were everywhere.

Annette Birkin laughed, eyes sparkling with tears, "Yes. It worked. Our daughter, combined with my husband's brilliance, is alive. And we believe she will make a full recovery."

A hand raised in the crowd, "What about the rest of the organs from the deceased?"

Annette nodded, "Those have found appropriate recipients. I assisted, myself, on the transplantation of a kidney to a patient right here in this hospital. One of her corneas, as well went to a worthy recipient. Though the loss of the donor is tragic, a doctor on staff here in fact, the lives she saved are..." Her voice broke, her hand lifted and she laughed, "I'm sorry. I'm emotional. I need to be with my daughter now. Thank you, everyone, for being here with us on this monumental day."

She left the podium to the shouts of the crowd. But neither she nor William delayed. They returned to Sherry's bedside to await her awakening.

* * *

In the recovery suite, the recipient of the kidney was just waking. She shifted where she lay in the warm sheets and opened her eyes. Her gaze fell on the eager one of her sister, leaning over to grip her hand.

"Helena? Can you hear me?"

The woman in the bed groaned, "I hear you. How much did I drink?"

The smile was the same between the two women. Though they shared the same father, they had different mothers. But it had never mattered. Growing up, they were inseparable. A small gap of a year was all that stood between their ages.

Helena was dark haired. Aya, blonde. One was a Harper. One was a Brea. There was evidence in Aya's face of the mixed heritage she enjoyed. Her mother was Japanese, a woman that had tried to love Helena's father after his wife's death and was never quite enough. He'd left her, and Aya, and even Helena to disappear into the night when both girls were still toddlers.

Mariko Brea had done her best to raise them. She was a good woman, conventional, and not always warm. But her steadfast loyalty had imprinted on her daughter's to leave them both the type that felt their due diligence to serve their country.

Helena had joined the Secret Service after a stint in the military. Aya had become one of New York's finest and was a detective in the N.Y.P.D. When Helena's kidneys had failed her from exposure in Tall Oaks to a virus, they'd struggled to find a match. With little hope, Aya had watched her sister dwindle down to a skeleton as the illness stole her vitality.

Helena never talked about Tall Oaks, but Aya was aware that something awful had happened there.

The call had come just days after an ailing Helena had finally signed a DNR and offered herself peace from the struggle without end. A hard decision, an impossible one, but there had seemed no hope for a cure. And now she had a new kidney.

Her face was still sunken but she was alert. She was smiling. She pale but looked rested.

The death of a doctor had saved the life of an agent. A fair trade? None of it was fair. But Aya's hand gripped her sister's, hard. "You look like shit, bitch."

And Helena's laughter made it all seem, just a little, better.

She gripped Aya's chin in her frail hand and said, "You got it. You got the cornea. The same donor?"

Aya had lost her left eye to an unruly bullet nearly eight months before. A shooter high on meth had taken a desperate escape and made it tragic. He'd killed her partner and left her for dead before being apprehended. The bullet hadn't killed her. It hadn't even done her the courtesy of blowing off the top of her head. The wild, small caliber round had lodged in her ocular cavity and caused swelling.

She'd lost her vision to the pressure before they could remove the bullet. The corneal damage was too severe. They were able to put the eye back, but it had cost her her sight. The eye had stopped the bullet from reaching her brain. She'd worn a patch while she waited for a transplant.

The antibodies that both she and Helena shared were matched, perfectly, by the same donor. The kidney had saved her sister. The cornea had given her back her sight.

The bi-color eyes were something she could live with. Usually a corneal transplant didn't alter the color of the eye beneath it, but the doctor's had told her upon waking that hers would be. Why? There was some residual bleeding from the iris that had caused sustained color merging. Which meant she'd have one blue eye that was half purple.

She could live with that. She could live with all of it.

Her sister was alive. Her sight was restored.

Things could only get better from here on out. This...it was like her world had righted itself. It was the best birthday she'd ever had.

* * *

**December 24th, 2014 -11:42 p.m.**

* * *

The thump of the concerts swell prevented the conversation from getting worse. The fighting, it was nothing but madness. Helena was always angry. She was always filled with a rage that wasn't like her.

The music beat around them from the DJ that spun her web of wonderful melody like the master she was. Aya tried to shout to be heard, but Helena threw her entreating hand off her arm again.

"I don't need to slow down, Aya! I'm  _fine!"_ She slapped her sister's concerned hands away, "I'm incredible! Don't you get it? I've never been more... _alive."_

She shoved away into the boiling crowd. Aya shook her head, trying to give chase. On the stage, the DJ encouraged the crazy crowd to new heights of excitement. The party was a celebration, of course, it had been almost a year since the brain transplant had brought Sherry Birkin back from the dead.

She was gifted with a new purpose and she'd pumped her music around the world in a tour of survival. She spread joy like a blanket everywhere she went. When she DJ'ed, people came from all over to listen to her. Her music was infectious, like her sheer love of living was.

They'd come tonight, when she'd returned to New York for an anniversary of the transplant, to gather all the recipients together for a blow out to end all blow outs. It was like joy was a drug. The more they danced, the more they listened, the higher they became. But not Helena.

Helena was so angry.

Her rage beat like butterfly wings at the wind of happiness that blew around the crowd.

She shoved. She snarled. She grabbed men to grind on them with a determination that was frightening.

It wasn't like her. More and more since the transplant, she'd spiraled into a darkness that no one understood. Instead of relief at the renewal of her life, the transplant had depressed her. Helena drank too much. She partied too hard. She wasted her gift on trying to kill herself.

It was like she'd been taken from death's door and shoved into hell instead.

Desperate for something, anything, that could help - Aya had called the only person she could think of to help. She'd never met Leon Kennedy. She'd heard the stories, of course, he was something of an institution in their business. She'd never met him. But Helena spoke of him with such a reverence, like he was a hero. Or a saint.

She was hoping the PTSD from Tall Oaks coupled with survivor's guilt over the kidney wouldn't spell the end of Helena. She was hoping maybe Leon Kennedy would be able to get through to her where other's failed. After all, he was the only other survivor of that handful of days that Helena never spoke about.

She was hoping to find him among the masses of people, but she only had a vague recollection of what he looked like. Helena was near the edge of the stage and froze. She shoved aside the man in her grip and reached instead for another.

Later, Aya would wonder what it was that happened in the next handful of moments. Insanity? Was it a severing of consciousness? She couldn't make any sense of it.

There was nothing particularly special about the man that Helena clawed at like a tiger. Nothing. He was handsome, sure, but so were plenty of men. He was tall and blonde and wearing a burgundy peacoat in expensive wool. There was a promise of a snappy gray vest and tie beneath the jacket. He looked out of place in the rock and roll madness around them.

And yet, he fit somehow among the chaos-a contradiction in a way that made you pause and notice him.

Helena grabbed at him, shouting. Aya was too far away to hear her words. She tried to look her arms around his neck. He gripped the other woman's arms and tugged her away from him. Her hands went for his coat like she'd open it and move inside.

He shook his head and the shaggy spill of his blonde hair was tickled with snowflakes. Looking desperate, Helena tried to grab his face and bring him to her. He leaned back, looking admonishing and somehow concerned. He shook her and spoke, so softly that there wasn't a word that Aya could discern among them.

But Helena looked crushed. She shoved at his chest and slapped at his face. She grabbed at his crotch like some kind of pervert and he gripped her wrist to turn her arm out and push her away.

And Aya finally knew who he was.  _That_ was Leon Kennedy. She put two and two together and figured out, quickly, why Helena spoke so painfully about him. She was in love with him. It was all over her face and form as he rejected her.

Helena stumbled and pointed. She shouted and gave him the finger. She stuck her hand in her pants and rubbed at herself, laughed, and grabbed the man beside her to grind on him. A woman aligned to her back, making her a sandwich between them.

What was this?

Aya finally pushed close enough to hear the shouting as Helena taunted, "-your loss, you stupid bastard!"

He started to answer and turned his head, just a little, to find Aya looking at him.

It shouldn't have been anything. It was nothing. It should have been nothing. But something happened. Her belly tightened. Her heart stopped. Her body responded to him in a way she'd never felt in her life.

There was some kind of pull that made her want to touch him.

It was insanity. It made no sense. It was like nothing she'd ever felt in her life.

And her eye throbbed.

With a gasp, she tossed a hand to her head to stop the pain. The moment they broke that gaze, the throbbing eased back.

Helena shouted, on an angry laugh, "Oh, you have to be  _kidding me_! Forget it, you bitch, you can't have him _!"_

A strange thing to shout. A strange thing to say. What did that even mean? Helena roared, louder, "I  _need_ him!"

Now she just sounded like a stalker. A psycho. A nutcase. Helena shoved aside the bodies cavorting on her and grabbed for Aya. They grappled, Aya trying to stop her own sister from going for her throat.

In the ensuing fight, Aya finally noticed that around them the dancing had turned darker. The people were fucking. The people were falling. The people were bleeding. An orgy of blood and madness made the world crack.

Sherry Birkin kept playing her music but she'd started to levitate above the stage. Helena sank her nails into Aya's throat and tried to rip it out. A couple behind them were in throws of an orgasm when the man split open the belly of his woman atop him and spilled her intestines down like writhing snakes.

The stench of death was as hot as the air that was suddenly hard to breathe.

Aya kicked her sister twice in the knee and elbowed her clean in the solar plexus. Helena stumbled and roared. She came again. And Leon Kennedy put her down with kick to the butt that sent Helena to her knees in the blood.

He put his hand down to Aya to pull her up. Hands grabbed for them as Sherry Birkin shouted, "Free yourself! FREE yourselves! Freedom! FREEDOM!"

The crowd began to chant it. Loud. Louder. Loudest. "Freedom! Freedom! FREEDOM! FREEDOM!"

And Helena shouted, snarling, "He doesn't understand! FREE HIM!"

On the stage, Sherry added, "He doesn't belong! Free him! So we can  _claim him!"_

What had she invited him into!? It was _her_  fault he was here. Aya grabbed his arm at the elbow, dragging him back from the blood that seeped toward his shoes.

"Run."

Surprised, he glanced at her, "I don't run."

"Please...please..." Her eye throbbed again looking at him. But this time, it was plesant. It felt good. The fear licked around her mind as she tugged on him, "Please...just run with me. Come with me."

"We have to stop them."

Aya saw the moment the blood sparked. It lit up like a Christmas tree. It turned the sky red and orange in flickering pandemonium. Sherry Birkin threw her hands up and the stage filled with musicians caught fire. Not the stage, no...the PEOPLE. They were combusting. They were catching fire from the inside out. It wasn't possible.

But it was happening.

Horrified, Aya grabbed him to her. He let her, the curl of her hands in his coat drawing him close. She shook him, once, twice, and urged, "You'll die. You'll die here. You have to run. We have to run. Now."

She wasn't sure how she knew. But she knew. If they stayed here, Leon Kennedy would burst into flames like the madness around them.

Something on her face swayed him because he nodded and let her drag him into a run. She left her sister. She left Helena shrieking and laughing and twirling. She left her sister as bodies burst into flames like pillars of horror.

They ran. They rushed. They reached the edge of the stadium and hit the stairs, heading down toward the tunnels that would take them to the parking lot. People chased them. People shouted. Sherry Birkin's voice filled the air with her call to arms, "BRING HIM BACK! WE MUST RELEASE HIM! BRING BACK THE EYES! BRING BACK THE HEART! BRING BACK THE SEED!"

Jesus.

Jesus Christ.

But there was no Jesus here. There was no god. There was no hope left.

And there was no time.

Aya knew they were dead. They were dead. They were finished. She hit the button to unlock her car. She shouted, "GET IN! HURRY!"

And Leon ran around the back side of the black SUV. The back raised as they moved. The fire lit the sky in tongues of furious glory. The screaming joined the pop and stench of roasting human flesh.

Aya hit the close function on her keys as they ran and the back began to lower before they'd even arrived. She was slower. She was stumbling a bit. He reached over and looped an arm over her waist.

He lifted her like she was nothing and tossed her. She slid, skidding on her side into the back of the SUV as the door descended. Leon narrowly avoided being cut in half as he dove after her.

The back closed with a beep. Aya wasn't sure how she knew it mattered, but something told her that it wasn't enough. She grabbed for him as the flaming bodies of the dying emerged into the parking lot down the tunnel where they'd come.

Like boulders bursting forth to burn them alive, the smoking stench of the doomed encroached into the nostrils and made her gag as she rolled him to his back beneath her and mounted him.

Surprised, he opened his mouth and Aya shook her head.

"The receipients. The transplantees. The people who got the parts...they didn't burn back there. They didn't catch fire."

Leon shook his head, "I don't understand."

"I won't burn."

His brows shot up, "How do you k-"

"I just know." She hunched down around him. She opened her coat and drew him into it with her. She whispered, into his ear, "I don't know if this will work. I don't know. I'm so so sorry. I should have never called you."

And he whispered, gently, "You kidding? This is just another Friday night for me."

She might have laughed - if the whole world wasn't broken around her. The fire hit the windows. The flames were hands that smacked the glass and the cries of the damned joined the crackle and pop of fire and fear.

The heat hit her back and shoulders. It spread into her belly. She made a small sound of pain and his hands slid around her lower back to tug her closer.

Quietly, he murmured, "It's ok. It's alright. I've got you."

What had Helena said? He'd never let go of her. That whole time they'd run. That whole time they'd fought - he'd never given up on her. Aya gasped, softly, "It's a parasite. Right? In me? It's a parasite."

His hands caught her face. He tucked her forehead against his and held on. And he answered, "...it always is."

As the fire burned around them. As the car turned steamy and smoky. But it never touched them. It ate around the carpet near their legs but it never touched them.

She tucked around him, a shield against the madness, and prayed whatever evil was in her - it was enough to save them both.

* * *

Post note: *1- "On the origin of mitosing cells" - Lynn Margulis

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**October, 2013 –**

**The Undying**

* * *

**5:16 pm - Raccoon City General Hospital**

* * *

"I think you need to make peace with the fact that you're infected. You can't pretend it doesn't exist, Leon."

The paper gown rustled as it was tossed aside and the jeans slid up long legs to take it's place. He shoved the button through the first hole with a vengeance, shaking his head. The calm face of George Hamilton met him as he turned, angry, with good reason, and looking for someone to blame.

The finger of blame pointed right at the accomplished surgeon. "Ya know, Doc, there's been lots of times in my life when people have told me to just roll over and suck it the fuck up."

Leon moved to pick up his t-shirt that was strewn haphazardly over the back of the uncomfortable chair in the exam room. The moment the vintage tee settled on his skin, it felt a little more like donning the armor he was so used to wearing. The carefree tongue and lips of the Rolling Stones logo graced the black fabric that settled over his narrow torso and hid the scars and muscles from curious eyes. From a physical stand point, mused George, it was a fine physique as any he'd ever treated. Liberally scattered in the scars of battle, it was a soldier's body, strong and honed -and holding the soul of one tortured warrior.

It seemed a slap in the face of karma that such a fighter would find himself up against a battle he couldn't win - best in the business or not, eventually even the mighty would fall. The news brought no relief to the face of Leon Kennedy as he snaked an angry hand through his signature tresses. In fact, it infuriated him as he further lamented, "In fact, I'm getting a little tired of people telling me what I can and can't do."

George nodded, looking unruffled, "I'm sure it is, for a man of your stature. But you can't change the truth here, Leon. You didn't remove the plagas fast enough, and parts of it have decided to stay with you."

The MRI had revealed the leftover appendages of the thing that had nearly killed him in Spain. Apparently, it had deposited some eggs in his chest wall that had taken years to hatch. Something had triggered them, recently, and an attempt had been made to divest him of the hatchlings before they overtook his body completely. The surgery had been successful, to a certain extent.

But pieces of the first hatching had fused to his spine. To take the whole thing, they'd have to sever his spinal chord and leave him paralyzed. For now, what was in him was controllable with medication developed by Rebecca Chambers and William Birkin. He could keep the damn thing in check. It was like cancer, in a way, kept at bay and in remission with drug therapy.

But for how long?

How long did he have before it became necessary to kill him or leave him a cripple?

How long was he going to be on borrowed time?

He'd recently accepted a position on the new task force assigned to the R.P.D. He was in charge, officially, of homicide and preternatural BCU (Bioterrorism Counter Unit) was the first of it's kind. The newest unit dealt with bio-terrorism in a way that revolutionary. The outbreak of massive proportions in Terragrigia and Tall Oaks remained one of the most devastating losses of human life in history. The T-Virus and the T-Abyss virus had leveled cities, at the same time it had given birth to the ability to create The Golgotha Virus which was known to be on tract to change the world.

When Birkin had abandoned Umbrella to work on his G-Virus, he'd thought he was leaving behind something that would benefit American in terms of creating soldiers that could withstand biowarfare. He had no idea he was leaving the T-Virus in the hands of a man who would weaponize it and create hoards of the undead. The acute leukemia his daughter, Sherry, developed prompted his William and his wife, Annette, to take the G-Virus and pursue it's original purpose: to help regenerate tissue in the hopes of curing terminal illness.

But Leon was doubting that the G-Virus could help him now. It was, carefully and rigorously, being regulated for human testing. The fear of another outbreak like Tall Oaks kept Birkin in check with his experimentation.

Not for man laden with parasites of unknown origin.

Leon caught sight of his face in the mirror above the exam bed as George attempted to talk him down. But the truth here was simple: Saving Ashley Graham had killed him. One way or the other, the time he'd spent in Spain was going to be the death of him. It didn't pay to be the hero.

Shaking his head, Leon whipped on his black leather jacket over the vintage tee. "Spare me the rhetoric here, George. How long do I have?"

George held his gaze, cooly, and finally shrugged, "With treatment? There's no telling. Birkin's treatments have been known to keep infected people alive for years after they should have been dead, Leon. You could have the rest of your natural life."

Leon shrugged, laughing without humor, "And I could be dead tomorrow."

George sighed, "The plagas has mutated. It's unexpected. With the cave where they'd originated sanitized and the rest of the infectees dead, we only had the one sample found on the body in _Rojo Serpiente_...and you. We don't have enough data to accurately determine anything."

Leon stared at his tired face in the mirror for a moment before he turned away and shrugged a shoulder, "Fuck it. You only live once, right? Everybody poops; everybody dies."

George shook his head, smiling wryly. "You and your jokes. You'll joke yourself to death."

Leon jingled his bike keeps in his pocket. "Maybe. I don't find health-related puns funny anymore since I started suffering from an irony deficiency."

George was still wincing as the door shut on his departure.

* * *

On his way out of the hospital, Leon paused to watch a little girl chase a balloon. She'd lost it in the wind and her musical laughter spilled around those that lingered in the cold breeze to watch her. Happiness. It was something so rarely felt after childhood in that way that just...cleansed you.

Her blood hair caught the breeze as she turned to look at him. Her smile was soft, sweet, innocent...and somehow familiar.

Surprised, Leon shifted to glance at the faces of those around him. Frozen. Still. Like mannequins or dolls or a movie waiting to start again. The air felt strange and cold and suddenly still.

The little girl blinked at him. She offered him the balloon. And his heart...it just started pounding.

With trepidation, Leon took the balloon from her. His voice sounded tinny and fake in the artifical world where he found himself, "...who are you?"

That smile stayed on her pretty face. Her red coat was bright in the muted sky. The signs of Halloween were orange and black around them. But her red, red coat kept his attention.

She finally spoke, softly, as she gestured at the big red balloon. "Look."

He did, glancing where her finger gestured. She laughed, happy, so happy, and said, "Do you see?"

He shook his head, staring hard at the balloon, "I'm sorry. I don't know what to look for."

She laughed again and he squinted at the balloon as the surface rippled. It reflected his own face back at him in the red. But it wasn't alone - there was a second face atop his, distorting it, warping it - forming a third. He squinted harder and the girl said, "...you will."

The water in the fountain beside her turned red with blood.

The balloon popped with a high pitched snap.

It startled him. It was so loud. And it brought the world back with a rush of sound.

He was just standing in the courtyard of the hospital beside a fountain decorated with candy corn and childrens drawings. The water kicked up droplets of pretty orange water - turned that shade with harmless food coloring. Not blood. Just water. Orange water. Simple.

Fun.

Horrifying.

Was any of that real?

"Are you alright?"

Startled, he turned his head. Pretty blue eyes met his over the fountain. It was hard to see her inside the poofy white parka she was wearing, but the cornflower scarf wrapped at her throat highlighted her eyes. She looked pretty beneath a careless shag of poorly chopped blonde hair.

He laughed, harshly, and shrugged, "Are any of us?"

She smiled with sympathy, "Not really. Do you need help or something?"

He tilted his head. A rare thing, real human kindness. He almost forgot it existed sometimes with what he did. But he shook his head, "Thanks, but no. I'm ok. Just...reeling a bit."

She nodded again and surprised him by gesturing with her head, "When it seems real bad, just remember what matters right?"

He turned his head to find a wheelchair bound little boy laughing and getting his face painted by an artist in the courtyard. It was clear the kid had cancer or something and was in treatment. His bald head didn't stop the smile on his happy face.

Right.

He glanced back to find her crossing the courtyard into the hospital. Why was her face so familiar? Where had he seen it? Did it really matter?

She'd said that: What matters. What mattered?

Laughter?

His hand rubbed at his sternum.

His heart thumped twice to remind him what mattered.

But the faces on the balloon still haunted him.

* * *

**7:22 p.m. - November - R.P.D. (Raccoon Police Department) Precinct**

* * *

"Happy-fucking-Thanksgiving, right?" The angry face of Kevin Ryman appeared above his desk.

Leon lowered the newspaper he was reading and tilted his head. "What's up?"

"Most of the R.P.D. is down to a skeleton crew for the holiday. Bo wanted me to ask if you'd..." Kevin glanced at the post-it stuck to his pants, "...pretty please with a perfect tittied hooker on top, take the 10-54 outside of town. He's stuck at dinner with his ex and his son."

Daniel "Bo" Dollis was impossible to say no to. He was so much the "good natured guys guy" that everybody liked him. He didn't care if you had tits or testicles, he made sure you were a good cop. Teamwork was his standard in everything he did. Through some twist of fate, he'd married a wanton bit of work with a coke habit and had been given the gift of a gorgeous kid named Ben. Ben was a good boy, despite his mother being a trainwreck, and at the first opportunity - Bo had taken full custody of his son and allowed his ex only visitation. Sadly, Thanksgiving was one of those days. So it was best to let him handle that "wayward witch with no soul" on the few days a year he was forced to.

"Who says no to that?"

"Some guy who doesn't like previously pounded poontang?"

"Give me a hooker over a bad date anyday man."

To this, Ryman nodded, "Agreed. Bitches be trippin."

Leon laughed and flopped his boots down, rising from his chair. He tugged on his heavy brown Sherpa lined bomber jacket to cut the chill that was, likely, seeping all around the streets beyond the big blue door of the station. The leather was so old it had a shine to it that reminded him that sometimes, new wasn't better. It fit like a glove and always made him feel secure somehow, like body armor for the soul. The collar secured the warmth around his face as he moved with Ryman toward the heavily empty bay where the cruisers were kept. Ryman took the wheel of an unmarked sedan and spilled them out into the snow covered streets.

The gas station was clearly abandoned for the holiday as they slid to a stop and surveyed the wreck. A pretty little compact car in shiny green was wrapped head first around a big tree. The engine was still sending plumes of oil smoke up into the speckled sky.

The ticking joined their ears as they alighted, Ryman checking around them as they walked. There was no one else around. A strange occurrence, given that accidents tended to bring out spectators like celebrity sightings. The crunch of boots on gravel beneath fresh snow was overly loud.

The hair on the back of Leon's neck stood straight up as they walked. He paused, putting his hand out to touch Kevin's forearm. The other man, in a faded brown bomber jacket still smelling of good oiled leather, stopped. "What is it?"

Leon listened, with more than ears, to what they _weren't_ hearing. "...somethings off here, right? I'm not crazy."

"You're not. Where's all the damn people? Someone called this in, right? Where are they?"

"Exactly." Leon reached under the back of his jacket and pulled his pistol. Surprised, Kevin echoed him. When he met the gaze of the other man, Leon added, "Just in case."

"Oh, no doubt."

"Check the tree line, ok? I'm gonna see if the driver survived."

Kevin moved to investigate the tree line as Leon shifted to the smoking side of the car. The car had hit head on and tried to accordion itself around the tree. Instead of turning at the curve, the driver had put the damn thing right into the edge of a sycamore without slowing down. Based on the rate of impact, Leon figured it had hit at a good thirty miles per hour.

The glass of the driver's window had fragmented, spiderwebbing up to the jagged metal roof and obscuring his vision of the driver. But the woman was dead. She had to be. The airbag had deployed and left her sandwiched between the seat and the shattered dashboard. Blood had splattered like red paint all over the fractured glass, making it look horror movie bad.

Leon tugged the handle, carefully, and the door creaked as it opened, protesting the move with a cry of metal. Gingerly, he touched the neck of the driver, feeling for a pulse. The lower jaw was smashed in, making her face look monstrous. Her teeth bucked out, crookedly driving into the roof of her mouth and the pulpy mass of what was left of her nose. One of her eyes had spilled onto the shattered cheek, but the other was safely contained in the mostly untouched right side of her face.

She had to be de-and then his fingers slid against a thready pulse.

Jesus Christ in a crock of corn fed shit. She was _still alive._

Leon raised his wrist and spoke swiftly into his watch. "Dispatch this is Kennedy - BCU. We have a 10-52 in progress at the Mizoli Gas Station on the turnpike. Please send all available units."

The radio crackled - empty.

No answer.

No response.

The hair on the back of his neck told him, somehow, that they were out here - _alone._

* * *

**8:00 p.m. - Mizoli Gas Station- Raccoon City Limits**

* * *

He wasn't entire sure how to do CPR on a victim in this much physical decay. She was bleeding everywhere. It looked like her ribs had poked through her skin from the hit against the airbag. How did he try to keep her alive?

His hand slipped in the blood on her collarbone trying to dislodge the seat belt from her chest to pull her free of the vehicle.

He almost had her free when she...moved. She moved and moaned and made a sound of pain. Her eyeball slid against his cheek. Her hands clutched at his coat.

Panicked, he almost dropped her, caught her instead, and slipped on the icy pavement. Leon went to his butt, clutching her against him as he fell. Kevin shouted and came running.

And the woman against him gasped in distress from her shattered face, "Dreams...eve...EVE..."

Comforting her, Leon tried to turned her into his grip. "Let me get you to the hospital...just let me-RYMAN!" He bellowed it, "Get the car! Hurry! NOW!"

The clutching hands stopped at his chest and lingered. She gasped, twice, and blood spilled warm and wet down her ruined jaw. "...awakened. Awaken. Now. Now."

She was tired? He didn't understand what she was saying. Gaining his feet, Leon adjusted her in his arms as he ran for the car. Her ruined eye slid against his chest and her cheek. Her hand touched his face and his jacket, slipping inside...to feel the beat of his heart.

She gasped, gurgling now, "...soon."

And went still.

Terrified, Leon piled into the back of the sedan as Kevin hit the gas and hurried to the hospital. But they knew it was hopeless. It had to be hopeless.

She was dead.

But she was still breathing.

She was still breathing when he handed her over the emergency crew at Raccoon General.

And stood in the falling snow with her blood on his hands.

_He just didn't know if any of it...was real._

* * *

**December 24th, 2014 -11:42 p.m. - Raccoon City Central Park**

* * *

Another Christmas spent with the Kennedy's. Another nightmare filled with too much liquor and painful conversation. The old man was drunk before dinner, stumbling his way through awkward family reminiscing and making the rest of the family put him to bed by dessert to resume any normal conversation.

His mother, the quiet mouse she'd always been, cleaned up behind her drunken husband with an abused woman's single minded determination. She knew, if she didn't, he'd awaken to cry and beg forgiveness again and promise he'd change. After almost forty years, everyone knew he wouldn't change. He was an alchoholic who'd failed rehab eight times in his life. The longest he'd been sober had been eighty four days after Leon was born.

The rest of his life he'd spent embarrassing himself and shaming those around him that couldn't bring themselves to abandon his worthless ass. Because he was that, Leon mused as he stepped out of the Jeep at the curb outside the concert. He was useless. Worthless. When he promised, he failed. When he pushed, he gave up. He'd drained his wife, his son, his friends and family of any amount of productive concern for him.

Now, they just tolerated it. They mostly ignored it.

Christmas Eve was always painful. His mother, his father, his few aunts and uncles that still could be bothered to show up, some cousins he'd never be close to that always tried to sanctimoniously convince the old man to try again to get his life back, bad pot roast, and a partridge in a pear tree. He'd dressed nice, he'd gone to support his mother, he'd kissed her weathered cheek and helped do the dishes.

He excused himself to the bathroom through out the night to study the growing patch on his chest that looked like mounds of scars. It was the plagas, he knew that. It was being held in check by the medicine, but it was still sending out messages that let him know it was there. It attacked his body from the inside, leaving wounds that would close immediately and scar. As if the damage to his body wasn't bad enough already, now he was being killed from inside his own damn skin.

Leon didn't know what was worse- the torture in this house, or the torture in his flesh.

And he'd been grateful for the call that came from Helena's half sister.

He'd take any excuse to get out of that pathetic nightmare.

He had no idea he was walking into another one.

The moment he walked through the tunnel into the crowd, the hair at the back of his neck stood up. There was a whisper in his head that was hard to ignore. It was years of instinct. It was training. It was survival. It was _clear._

_GO BACK. DO NOT ENTER._

He did neither. He pressed through the crowd, hunting up Helena. The voice mail was extensive, panicked. A pretty tone laced with an accent he was trying to place - canadian maybe of the french variety? No. Not exactly. But they were close enough to the border here that it was possible.

But the voice had begged his help. Helena was so far down the rabbit hole that pulling her out was impossible. He'd known, after Tall Oaks, that she was sick. They'd kept him updated on the pursuit of a transplant. He knew that the girl who'd died in his arms and come back on Christmas Eve was the woman who'd saved her life.

But why was she digressing?

Helena had been a woman determined and loyal and head strong when he'd met her. She'd made a helluva partner against the idiot Simmons and his attempt to over throw the government. She'd been instrumental in the whole ordeal. Her collusion had been forgiven when it was understood that her husband had been in Simmons hands. She'd done everything possible to save him.

But the loss of him and the sickness had nearly destroyed her.

She'd been granted a new lease on life with the transplant. Why was she killing herself like this?

He needed to find Aya Brea and ask. He'd tried calling back but only get her voicemail. It was better, he'd decided, to show up and try to intervene. Maybe Helena just needed someone beside family to kick her in the ass.

The concert was full of people in half naked states. It was like Woodstock for weirdos. It was full of flagrant sexual clarity in a way that even his jaded ass couldn't over look.

He passed by two people fucking on the ground by a porta-potty and couldn't stop the snort.

Sherry Birkin's brain transplant was the reason for the party. The survival of her the year before had been a medical marvel. His gaze landed on the girl on the stage.

She'd retired after Tall Oaks and became a DJ. Her interest in music had surprised everyone. Something had happened to her in that off shore oil tanker to change her pursuit of justice.

She'd taken herself out of the world of warriors and become a musician.

But the leukemia had almost killed her. She'd entered the blast stage so fast that no one had seen it coming. To save her, William and Annette had put her into a coma, preserving what was left of her brain from infiltration from the disease. They'd transfused and tried to insulate her while William desperately worked on the G-Virus trying to save his daughter's life.

With no other option, he'd started experimenting with it in the raw stage to keep the tissues of her body alive while the brain died. Being his daughter, he had the medical authority to take action to spare her life. She became his guinea pig on a virus that was still not yet approved for public health.

But it worked. G kept her alive. It kept her body functioning even as the brain failed her. It seemed unable to regenerate her brain, allowing her body to function on machines even as the neurotransmitters in her head stopped. She was kept on the regimen for almost eighteen weeks before the accident that had given her a new brain.

The specifics were carefully guarded and unclear, but the end result had left Helena, Sherry, and a handful of others with new organs to ring in the new year.

Those who'd received Megan Pearce's organs were all gathered at the concert tonight, celebrating that new life.

One whole year of new living.

Leon eased through the crowd to find Helena grinding on a man near the base of the stage. She was dressed like a whore, her skirt torn and above stockings fishnet and ripped. Her top was a slutty homage to police work. It even had a badge slapped on the breast of the dangerously low cut blue fabric. Her cleavage was plummeting, letting any onlooker see right down into the core of those enormous tits of hers like she'd opened her blouse and invited them in. She wore a uniform police hat tucked down over one eye as she laughed and celebrated. She looked like a bad stripper on Halloween.

When she saw him, she shoved aside the guy palming her crotch and reached for him.

Everything started to spiral in a way that he'd spend the rest of his life trying to unravel. Again his brain tried to toss up the question, the hard truth, the fractured reality - _was it real?_

_And did it matter?_

Above the swirling madness, the shimmer of a red balloon froze him in place.

Was the little girl here among the monsters?

Helena made a sound of hunger and brought his gaze back to her. She didn't look like the woman he'd survived a night of horror with. She looked like a monster.

And it didn't matter anymore if she was real.


	3. Chapter 3

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**December, 2014 –**

**The Laws of Attraction**

* * *

**December 25th, 2014 -12:06 a.m**

* * *

Helena clawed for him. She put her lips to his ear and purred, "I'm fertile. I'm ready. Fertilize me."

And reached her hand toward his crotch.

When he resisted, she shouted, "I'm the vessel, you fool! I want you!"

She was high or something. Her eyes were dilated and huge. Her teeth flashed like fangs. He started to answer and the hair on the back of his neck stiffened again. It was the least exciting moment that had ever happened to him since the first time a girl had reached for his dick.

"You've lost your mind, Helena. Back off before I put you down."

His gaze turned. Pretty girl - out of place in an orgy of madness. The black leather coat, the slim jeans, the boots and the shaggy blonde hair around an elfin face. Nothing special.

Her bicolored eyes ringed in kohl liner seemed to hold him captive. A handful of seconds. Nothing really.

His heart skipped two beats and  _hurt_.

And his chest throbbed.

_She was the girl by the fountain._

There was no time to think of it. The world fell apart. The call of the woman on stage that seemed to enflame the madness chased them from the building.

People began to...spontaneously combust. Not possible. It wasn't. Spontaneous combustion was an urban legend. Right?

Sure...but so were zombies.

His former partner tried to kill him or fuck him or convert him. He didn't know. His instinct was to stay, to fight, to never flee. This couldn't stand. It was evil. EVIL. He could feel the evil like a blanket tossed over his skin to smother him.

But the girl grabbed his arm and jerked, centering, "Please! RUN!"

Run. Right. Staying was stupid. Why would he stay? It made no sense. The voice of Sherry Birkin called, "BRING BACK THE SEED!"

A hand touched his arm as they ran. One of the patrons of the concert...no...of the  _orgy_.  _He'd somehow descended into some level of hell that he couldn't understand._

Leon recoiled, the hand hurting him. The face was familiar. Why? Where had he seen all these faces?

But it didn't matter. They kept running. The girl with him shouted, "GET IN!"

It was instinct or luck that found them huddled in the back of her SUV. Not his. His had failed him. Why? He started to ask and she crawled on top of him.

It wasn't like Helena. He felt absolutely no desire at all to throw her off. Why? She was a stranger. They were surrounded by horror. By death. By destruction and madness and -

"The receipients. The transplantees. The people who got the parts...they didn't burn back there. They didn't catch fire."

Leon shook his head, "I don't understand."

"I won't burn."

She said -  _I won't burn._

_How could she know that?_

His brows shot up, "How do you k-"

"I just know." She hunched down around him. She opened her coat and drew him into it with her. She whispered, into his ear, "I don't know if this will work. I don't know. I'm so so sorry. I should have never called you."

And he whispered, gently, "You kidding? This is just another Friday night for me."

She was Aya Brea. She was Helena's sister. Why didn't she burn like the others? The organs...but why?

He tried to ask, he did, but she dismissed him. She opened that coat and curled around his body. The skinny little white tank top she wore beneath the heavy leather didn't stop the warmth of her skin. Her fingers slid down and unhooked the buttons of his peacoat. She worked at the smaller buttons of his vest. She gathered up the fancy white shirt beneath it all and tugged it up.

He let her, curious what her aim was. She pressed their naked bellies together. His hands comforted her as she made a sound of pain. He touched her naked back and soothed her.

He felt the heat hit the SUV. He braced, waiting to burn...but he didn't. Was it her atop him? He didn't know. She didn't either.

But she stayed there.

Quietly, he murmured, "It's ok. It's alright. I've got you."

"It's a parasite. Right? In me? It's a parasite." She sounded so sad. So lost. So hurt.

His hands caught her face to hold her, instinctively, like he'd what? Protect her from the truth? Maybe. OR maybe it was some kind of kinship he couldn't understand.

Gruffly, he answered, "...it always is."

One way or another, a parasite was going to be the death of him. This one? It had a beautiful woman attached to it. And some part of that was calling...to the one in his blood.

The fire spilled into the SUV with a pop of the frame giving. Leon felt it touch the carpet near his knee. He sat up, curling closer around her. They tucked their legs as close to the other as possible as she sat in his lap and cocooned him against her.

And she whispered, "If we die, I'm so so sorry. It's my fault. It's all my fault."

Leon studied her face from where it rested above his. A tear eeked out of the corner of her eye and slid down to mingle in the very, very, very pink of her lips. What in the hell was happening here? He wanted to lean up and lick the tears off her mouth.

...w...t...f.

Her soft breathing was making him glance down at the very thin shirt she was wearing. All of this was so painfully inappropriate. People were  _dying_  out there. Helena was some kind of monster. Sherry Birkin was the pied piper of the pervert infected. And he was in here...what?

Eyeballing some girl he'd just met like he'd throw her down and fuck her bow legged.

What had Sherry screamed?

_The seed._

What did that mean? Was he  _meant_ to be attracted to whoever shared the organs? Why?

There were too many questions. Too many things that made no sense. Too many horrible truths they'd yet to uncover. His hands shifted around her back to her rib cage.

Two inches above his hands were her breasts.

She wasn't wearing a bra. He knew that. He knew it without looking. He knew it because he was intensely  _aware_ of her. Why!?

Out loud, he mused, "A proton and a neutron are walking down the street. The proton says, "Wait, I dropped an electron help me look for it." The neutron says, "Are you sure?"

He rushed out the answer before she could, "The proton replies, "I'm positive."

Her eyes opened. Her thick watery lashes blinked - twice. And she whispered, hoarsely, "...what?"

Sheepish, Leon shrugged, "I get nerdy when I'm nervous."

Surprised, Aya replied, "It's horrible. Oh, god. I'm sorry. I should get off you, but I'm afraid."

Without missing a beat, he quipped, "Most girls are afraid to get  _on_ me."

And winced. He winced. Her eyes widened. He shook his head and apologized, profusely, "I'm sorry. Jesus. I went Frosty the Snowman and froze or something back there. And now we're in this horrible situation and I can't seem to get ahold of my ere-"

He just stopped talking. THANK GOD. He wasn't sure how confessing something like that would go down.

But to his surprise, she murmured, "...yes. I can tell."

...well... _crap._

He shifted his hands  _carefully_ away from her breasts. "...right. Oy. What  _is_  that? I've had this thing since birth, you'd think I'd have better control on it."

Her mouth twitched a little. "It's actually ok. It distracts us both from what is waiting outside of this car...oh, god...my sister. My sister...what can I do?"

That helped. Remembering the horror, that helped. He tucked her closer, hugging her. "We'll figure out, I swear. You called me right? You had to know I'd help you. Whatever else is true, that woman back there wasn't Helena. I won't stop until we know what happened with that damn donor."

Aya nodded. Her fingers slid against his hips and traced the scars on his back. She craned her neck enough to see his face, "...something about you spoke to them. Did you know her?"

He shook his head, carefully avoiding the urge to stick his hands down her narrow jeans and grab her ass. Jesus. What the hell was this?

She was having less luck. Her roaming digits slid up his back and traced his spine. Focusing on her face, he murmured, "I found her. She bled on me. She died in my arms. But I don't know why that matters."

Her mouth tickled his ear as she spoke, "I don't know either. Something about you...calls to me."

Well..that was  _not_ helping at all. He shifted and rubbed against her where she straddled him. They both froze as if someone had stuck their fingers in electrical sockets. Hoarsely, he muttered, "...sorry. I'm losing my marbles here, I'm sorry."

"It's ok. It is. We just...maybe we can't work together until we figure out what  _this_ is."

Leon nodded moving his hands away from her skin to rest them at his hips. She echoed him, lifting hers above her head like he'd been one of the people to catch fire. He met her gaze and replied, "Right. We work together, but not  _together."_

Aya nodded, "Exactly. Until we know why we're so..." She trailed off, looking for the right words.

Without thinking, he muttered, "Hot for it?"

Ok. OK. The wrong thing to say when people were spontaneously combusting all over. Horrible. Cruel. Stupid. But she snorted and laughed, lightly, and slapped a hand over her mouth in horror.

"...I'm a soulless demon."

Leon shook his head, "Nope. Just making sure you don't go insane. Bad jokes and I? First name basis."

It was cold in the car. Freezing. At some point, the fire had gone out. They heard sirens blaring in the quiet smoky darkness.

Aya breathed, "I think help has arrived."

"...yep. Maybe you should get off me."

She leaned back. Their foreheads brushed together. And she rolled her face against his like a cat or something. What was weirder?

He  _liked_ it.

With a grunt, he said, "Right. Off. Hurry. Now. Please."

"Yes." She rolled aside, landing on her back on the smoking carpet. Her hands were trembling. "Seriously. What the hell is happening?"

Leon stared at the window as he caught sight of the lights swirling that meant the RPD had arrived. "I don't know. But we'll figure it out. We just can't do that near each other."

"Yes. Right. I'm...I'm Aya. In case...in case you didn't..."

"No. Yeah. I figured." He glanced at her and away, sharply, "I'd offer to shake hands, but I think that's a reallllly bad idea."

"I agree." She curled against the side of the SUV, tucking her legs up and closing her arms around them. They retreated from each other like they'd caught on fire anyway. Leon realized, after a handful of seconds, that his hand was on the butt of his fucking gun.

What was this? Was he going to shoot her for making him want her?

It was laughable.

But no one was laughing.

Finally, he said, "Halloween."

Aya blinked at him and narrowed her eyes, "What?"

"I saw you. I met you...sorta. At the fountain."

It clicked on her face as she gasped and nodded, "Right.  _Right._ You looked so sad."

He studied her face, searching for the right words here. Taking a chance, he asked, "Did you see a little girl? In the courtyard a few moments before that?"

Aya tilted her head at him. She scanned his face. Curious, she answered, "The one with the balloon?"

Real.

It was real.

She'd seen it too.

What did that mean?

His heart thumped painfully. She furrowed her brow and queried, "Was she your daughter?"

Leon arched a brow, "No...why?"

"She looked just like you."

_Do you see?_

Leon shook his head. He licked his lips and asked, "Did you see her walk off? Before you talked to me, did you see the little girl walk away?"

Aya narrowed her eyes, trying to gather the thought. After a handful of moments, she gave him a blank look laced with concern. "...I can't. I can't remember. I just remember you...and her. And the balloon."

Jesus.

What the hell did that mean? When the world was frozen, when there was no one but them, and a little girl that looked just like him...what did it mean?

Was it tied to this?

A better question...how could it not be!? But he just couldn't find the voice to ask anymore questions. They kept looking at each other as if the other might have the answers.

But neither spoke.

They just kept staring in silence until the door of the SUV was opened and they were welcomed into the wasteland that had once been Central Park.

Under the horror of what had happened, one single thing stood out - the SUV that had been "burning" around them? It was fine. It was perfectly safe. The fire of those who'd tried to get in hadn't ever really touched it. That had been all...hallucinated?

Maybe it was mass hysteria and fear that had made them think it was?

But no. He'd felt the fire. He'd  _felt_ it.

But the evidence said that was a lie. Only bodies had burned. The whole of the park was untouched save for the bodies that had fried to blackened charred bits where they'd fallen. The fire had failed to ignite anything else but it's source of ignition. Only the dead had burned.

Ryman was the first to find them after the paramedics were done looking them over. He shook his head, scrubbing at his tired eyes. "The fucking mess...I've never seen anything like it."

Leon shook his head, buttoning his coat. "Merry Christmas huh?"

"No shit. What the hell happened?"

Another shake of his head accompanied their movement toward the tunnel to take them to the concert stage. The sheer magnitude of seared and stinking flesh was horrifying. As Tall Oaks had burned, Leon had smelled the acrid stench of burning man. It stayed with you, it never left, and it was never a smell he wanted to experience again.

Taking a moment as a flash of PTSD gave him pause, he lifted a hand to Ryman and rubbed the back of his neck. "Hold on...damnit."

"You ok?"

Leon sighed, closing his eyes and breathing deeply - twice, "It was insanity man. First it was like...an orgy. A perverted madness of sex and debauchery. I've never seen such..." He trailed off, searching.

A thump of boots drew their attention to find Bo in the company of Aya as they approached and she finished, "Primal fury. It was primal."

Leon nodded, "Yeah. Primal. Like no one knew anything but to mate and die. It was nothing I can even begin to describe."

Aya added, softly, "Birkin, she was...inciting them. She was stirring them up. Like she had some kind of thrall over them."

Leon shook his head, scanning all the smoking corpses that populated the previously snow covered ground. Black and white, polar opposites - and a perfect mirror to the madness of what had once been reality. "Like Saddler...with that bad juju staff he had. Controlling them. She pushed them to chase us. She pushed them to mate and fight and kill each other. Like animals."

Aya crossed her arms over her chest, "No. Animals don't kill for sport. Not animals...monsters. The closer Helena got to her, the worse she became. She was cruel and corrupted and just -"

"-possessed." Leon took up the thought. Surprised, they caught eyes. It lingered until they both turned away.

Bo was jotting on his pad. He was a dark skinned man with a big belly and muscular arms. In his heavy camel hair coat, he looked like Mr. T goes to the opera or something. He muttered, "Biggest nasty business we've seen since-"

He stopped. He looked up. Ryman winced. And Leon picked up the silence, "It's ok. You can say it. Since Tall Oaks."

"I'm sorry," Bo grumbled in his bear like tones, "I'm clown shoes man, just forget I said it."

Leon shook his head, "It's fine. It is. And I agree. This is bigger than Tall Oaks. It's worse. Because something happened with that donor. Something made worse by the Birkin's using G on Sherry to keep her alive. I'd like to blame G like we blamed the T-Virus in Tall Oaks...but I can't. I can't. Because none of the other recipients had G in them. None of them. They just got organs from the dead doctor Megan Pearce."

Aya shifted, waving her arm to a uniform officer close by. She commanded, "Get me a list of all the recipients. Now."

Ryman mused, "Aya - go home. We can handle this. Helena...we found her when we arrived. They rushed her to Raccoon General...she-it-" He took a deep breath and finished, "She was unconscious, Aya. She was unable to be roused. It looks like a coma."

Aya shook her head. She glanced over the madness, "I can't do anything for her there. But here? Here I can start to find the answers to what's happened to her."

Leon glanced at Bo and instructed, "Get an order of suspension for Birkin. I don't want another person touched by the G-Virus. Especially  _anyone_  that received an organ from Megan Pearce."

Bo moved to follow the order. Ryman said, softly, "What about Sherry? She's missing. We have no clue what happened to her."

Leon glanced at the stage, remembering the little girl he'd met so many years ago on his first day on the force. She was a monster now - it was hard to imagine. But he answered, "Set up road blocks. Put out an APB. And find me those other organ recipients. Now."

Ryman hurried off, nodding, and barking orders at uniforms.

It left Aya and Leon about three feet apart from each other.

He said, softly, "It's ok. Go see your sister. I got this covered here."

Aya shook her head, looking at the snow falling on the corpses turned black in death. "I can't...I-I just can't. Being here helps. I just figured out why you keep ringing in my head. I don't-I don't know if you saw the paperwork yet."

He glanced at her and the hair tumbled into his eye, "What paperwork?"

She looked apologetic and so very sad as she murmured, "I'm your newest recruit...I just got promoted to BCU. I had no idea you were heading it up. It's...well, it's an honor to work with you, sir. I just wish it wasn't like this.."

Great. Perfect. Because avoiding each other was really going to be easy when you were, literally, the fifth man on a five man squad. With the addition of their equipment and op-tec guy, Quint, Aya officially made up the last man on the totem pole.

He'd read the damn paperwork, but it hadn't mattered until now.

How did you avoid someone who technically worked for you?

You sent them somewhere far, far away. Leon started to task her with - anything that wasn't three feet from him - when Ryman shouted, "Got the list of recipients! Only two weren't in attendance with you tonight. The other's are currently in the hospital...like Helena."

He glanced at Aya who nodded, shaking her head, "It's ok. It is. I'm going to find who did this. I swear to god."

Kevin handed the paper to Aya and she scanned it, looking for anything familiar. "This one - Yoko Suzuki- she's a professor at the university. She received the liver."

Leon gestured to the third one down, "Peace - Melissa Pearce. Opera Singer. Relation to the doctor?"

"Seems likely," Aya glanced up at him and back at the list, "She received the heart. Does the organ matter?"

He shrugged, "Without knowing the progression of the virus, I can't answer that. But, if she's still alive, maybe Yoko Suzuki can. It says she's a geneticist working with Rebecca Chambers at Raccoon U. I know Rebecca, I'll go see them."

He glanced at Aya who was looking at him - sorta- she was kinda looking at his mouth too. He shifted and didn't enjoy, at all, when their fingers brushed on the page. Fuck it. He needed help, quick. Before he started trying to fuck her over the smoking corpses of the dead.

Aya shifted her hands to her back pockets and stepped away, "Right. I'll go see about Melissa Pearce. She's currently in performance at Carnegie Hall."

Leon nodded, shifting away, "Take Bo with you. His ex cleans toilets there right? Maybe he can get you in quicker."

Aya nodded and hurried away. As she went, Kevin glanced at Leon's face and arched a brow, "Yo, boss."

Her butt looked like two pringles hugging in those skinny jeans. He was fairly sure if he just curved his palm around her, his hands would fit perfectly on her a-

The high pitched whistle drew his attention. Leon actually jerked like someone had slapped him. He almost shouted, "Yes! What?"

Kevin's eyebrows flew up into his hair as he admonished, "Sorry to interrupt the ass watch, boss. But I thought you might like to get moving on finding the person who's responsible for all these bodies around our feet."

Well, that was embarrassing.

Now she was comprising his notorious professionalism. This had to stop. It was ridiculous.

Leon shook his head and turned away, stalking toward the parking lot. "Get BCU analysis to wade through her with a fine tooth comb. I want anything at all that smells like virus or parasite or paranormal."

Kevin nodded, climbing into the passenger seat. "You wanna tell me why you can't keep your eyes off our new recruits junk in the trunk? Admittedly, it's a nice ass. And she's fucking gorgeous. But I'm not sure that's enough to forget there's about three hundred dead out there."

Leon paused at the stop light and gripped the wheel. He bumped his head, roughly, against the steering wheel. "Nothing makes sense anymore, man. Just keep me away from that woman."

Kevin shook his head, laughing lightly, "Alright, you old horndog, consider me your cock block buddy. No gorgeous blondes for you. Besides what kind of babies would you have? Gorgeous blonde babies with big blue eyes. You two look like Lannister's. Incestuous shit there, man. Think of her like your sister."

Leon laughed, turning toward the university. "How does that help? Lannister's make babies with their sisters."

Ryman winced, laughed, and shrugged, "Fine. You want me to start fucking her? Maybe the bro code will kick in and protect you."

Leon sighed, loudly, "Let's just find out what the hell this thing is, so I can cut it out of me and kill it."  
Kevin nodded, sagely, and remarked, "The Kennedy Special - kick it in, cut it up, and kill it dead."

Leon rolled his eyes, "Undead, my friend. Nothing I kill  _ever_ stays dead."

"Dude, zombies are so much easier."

"Right?" Leon shook his head, "What do zombie vegetarians crave?"

Sensing the need of his old friend to change the subject, Kevin replied, "I'm all aflutter."

"GRAAAAAAAINS."

Hell, at least a bad joke could still keep them from feeling utterly and completely screwed.

* * *

**12:46 a.m. -Carnegie Hall - Main Lobby**

* * *

Bo's ex was the only person in the building besides Hank the security guard. The rest of the staff were, of course, off for the holiday. But she happily let them into the dressing room to poke through Melissa Pearce's affects.

Aya carefully avoided the long looks she was getting as she leafed through Pearce's dressing station. A pretty red gown in sparkly satin. A beautiful selection of costume jewlery. A shiny untouched lighter and a half smoked pack of cigarettes. Various cards were poked in the mirror with congratulations and "you go girls!". To answer the question of who she was, the picture tucked at the top had the answers.

Megan and Melissa Pearce had their arms wrapped around each other in a hug that said "TWINNING." The doctor was slimmer, more elf than bombshell, but Melissa, the diva, had a body that would have made Kim Kardashian proud. She was curvy, gorgeous, and graced with big green eyes that rivaled her sister's in sheer color.

Twins or not, they were different in height and stature, but the face remained the same. And now Melissa Pearce had more than her sisters' smile, she had her heart. It was a heavy burden to bear.

Aya picked up the photo, flipping it over to read the back. In a heavy scrawl, Megan Pearce had written:  _You are my HERO, sis. My heart is with you._

Shit.

Aya felt her eyes tear up.

Annoyed by the emotion, she poked the photo back and shifted to leaf through the top drawer of the vanity. Pens. Pencils. A hair barrette with a blue peacock. And a small journal.

Curious, Aya lifted it free and opened it. The first entry was about a date she'd had with her co-star. The passages were brief and often referenced fatigue over her failing heart.

Skipping ahead, Aya found a passage from several days before. It talked about grief over Christmas without Megan. It spoke of the guilt of carrying her heart with her. It went into detail on dreams she was having about fire. Fire, it read, the fire...when will burn me alive?

Aya felt a shiver down her spine. The organs. They were the link. They were the start. But something had changed in Birkin, something had given her power to control others. What caused the combustion?

And how did it fail in those who shared Megan Pearce's organs?

Maybe the answer wasn't Birkin. Maybe it wasn't G. Maybe it was something that had happened in Megan Pearce long before that. They needed to find out what had brought Megan Pearce to Raccoon City.

Aya jotted down the number scrawled on the edge of the journal entry. A local number, underlined twice, and marked with an exclamation -  _Apple Inn - 304._

Curious, Aya turned to find Bo still watching her. She arched her brows at him. "What?"

"You wanna tell me why you didn't say a damn word about Helena?"

Aya shook her head and shrugged, moving toward the door with him. "What do you want me to say? You have Ben and Lorraine to deal with. I didn't want to add to that."

Bo shook his head, holding open the main doors to guide her back to the street. "What does that shit matter? You know you're my girl. You can tell me anything, A. Anything."

He was, without trying, her best friend. They'd started clicking the second she'd joined the RPD fresh out of the academy. When the new task force had come into being, he'd been the first to push for her recruitment. It had never been anything but platonic with them, and she adored him for being the brother she'd never been blessed to have.

But how did she even begin to tell him about the things that were happening here? _Bo - I'm afraid I might rape our new boss. Bo - I'm afraid it won't be me that rapes him. Bo - I'm afraid I'm losing my mind._

_Bo...I've been having filthy dreams about Leon Kennedy for days...but I never really met him until tonight._

_I don't think I'm me anymore._

Even love had limits. And she was afraid the truth would leave her alone, wishing she'd kept her mouth shut.


	4. Chapter 4

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**December, 2014 –**

**The Woman in Red**

* * *

**December 25th - Outside Carnegie Hall - 3:00 a.m.**

* * *

Aya wondered if the limit of love came with turning into a monster.

Bo kept looking at her, waiting patiently.

"This isn't the best place to talk about it," Aya sighed, claiming the passenger seat in his Cadillac. He eased onto the snowy road while she watched the passing buildings.

Aloud, she said, "She fell apart. I tried to stop it. Each day, it was worse. Weeks went by sometimes where I couldn't find her. She'd be holed up somewhere high and covered in needle marks. She lost her job in the Secret Service about four months ago. Didn't tell a soul. She was high on duty and fucking some security guard instead of guarding the president."

Bo reached over to squeeze her knee, "This ain't your fault, A. You know that. Something is wrong with those organs. We're gonna find the what."

Aya shook her head, holding in the pain of it. "If that's true, Bo. It means I have that in me too. It means whatever drove her insane? It will get me too. Eventually? I'm gonna go down the same road."

Bo shook his head, "Nah. Helena...she was always weaker than you."

Surprised, Aya glanced at him, "That's unfair."

"Fuck it, it's truth. Even before the infection in Tall Oaks. She was the one nearly lost her shot at SS over that shooting. Never did explain the why of it. You had to pull strings to get her another one. She was the one didn't bother to show up when you lost your eye. She's always been self centered, A. Always been out for herself. Whatever that organ did - maybe it just...made that bad trait bigger. Maybe it perverted selfishness into madness."

Aya was quiet, considering.

Bo added, "I ain't a scientist, but I can tell ya this...you stronger than some evil eye. You gonna be fine, mark my words."

Aya smiled, touched by his faith. She leaned back in the seat, watching the snow over the Hudson River. There was little they could do tonight in terms of contacting Pearce. A phone call to room 304 at the Apple Inn received no response. The desk clerk knew nothing about who was staying there. According to him, the room was empty.

A further inquiry told them that Melissa Pearce had disappeared a few days before, likely headed into hibernation because of her dreams. Was she dreaming of the Apple Inn? What was in 304? Was the fire her precognition of the concert?

Too many questions. Not enough answers.

The Cadillac rolled to a stop at the hospital entrance. "You sure you want to stay here tonight? Maybe you should go home, A, and get some sleep. You can't help Helena by sitting at her bedside."

Smiling sadly, Aya answered, "It's Christmas, Bo. She's the only family I've got in this city."

Bo studied her face and answered, gruffly, "Not the only family, kiddo. You know that. We might not be blood, but we kin."

She leaned over to kiss his hairy cheek before she slid out of the car. "You old softie."

Bo laughed, shaking his head, "Want me to stay with ya?"

She shook her head, "No. I'll go grab a shower in the on call room they let me use and call my mother. What a Christmas...huh?"

Bo replied, gently, "You need anything, A...anything at all."

She nodded, smiling weakly, "Thanks. I'm ok. I am. Really. Go home to Ben. Merry Christmas, Bo."

She closed the door and climbed the stairs to the hospital. She took the elevator to the second floor. She spent a few moments with her comatose system in the quiet, depressing, dark and empty ICU.

She pressed a kiss to Helena's forehead and whispered tremulously against her skin, "I'm sorry, big sister. I'll fix it. I promise."

Aya stepped back and away. She left her lifeless sister behind in the room that smelled like antiseptic and death. The room with the shower where the doctor's slept was empty. All the better.

She needed a moment alone.

She tossed aside her clothes and stepped into the small shower and let the spray hit her face. Her hands flattened on the wall. Her eyes closed.

And it took everything she had to keep on standing.

* * *

**December 25th, 2014 - Raccoon City** **Hospital Waiting Room -** **11 a.m**

* * *

Aya gave up sleeping about five hours after she started. There was no point. There really wasn't. She wasn't going to rest comfortably as long as her sister lay in a coma...dying?

Was she dying?

Was she dead?

Was she...germinating?

There was no way to know.

They needed answers. She wasn't going to find them sniveling and feeling sorry for herself. She had a great deal of hope riding on the reputation of a man she couldn't seem to stop picturing naked.

But strange attraction aside, it didn't change the fact that Leon Kennedy was the best in the business. He came with countless wins against the monsters under his belt that meant he knew what he was doing. He was steadfast, he was dedicated, and he was, almost always, successful.

It was the reason he was given full command of the first task force in the country to tackle the bio-terrorist threat head-on. She had no idea it would be him. It was like landing Brad Pitt to star in an indie movie.

She wasn't sure what kind of clout it had taken to wrest him away from the Division of Security Operations - the small time talk said that Kennedy had burned out pretty hard after he'd failed to save the President in the Tall Oaks disaster. Maybe he'd been ready for a change. Some said he'd lost his edge and was looking to retire. Some said he'd taken it personally and couldn't seem to deal with the depression.

It was whispered that he drank, a lot, to cover the pain of his own losses.

It didn't matter. Whatever his personal life, he was her best bet now. She was hoping he was piece mailed together enough to prove the naysayers wrong. She was betting her  _life_ on it.

Clad in a simple black tee advertising the band Queen in faded white letters and her favorite jeans, she poked her feet into knee-high boots and her arms into her favorite white parka. The downy softness reminded her that it was winter, it was her favorite time of year, and this was the worst time of her life. The worst.

Not long ago, Christmas had been the happiest time of year. They'd laughed. They'd danced. Helena had started seeing a fellow agent, the first since her divorce had gone sour. Aya had just gotten engaged to Kyle. Life had looked up...and then it hadn't.

She paused, considering, as she waited for the taxi she'd called in front of the hospital. Kyle. He'd met her in their dual pursuit of a traitorous bounty. They'd both been after Jack Krauser for some time before it was clear he was off their radar. A chance run-in outside of the village of  _Rojo Serpiente_  in Spain had found them both at a dead end. The talk was simple - Krauser had died in combat with Leon Kennedy.

She'd never forget the annoyance on Kyle's face as he proclaimed, "That fucking Kennedy - even his name sounds like a goddamn superhero."

The jealousy over him had prompted them to have a drink.

The connection of their similar interests had landed them in a relationship. Kyle was funny. He was simple and charming and  _good._

Aya turned her gaze to the dreary gray sky over the distant clock tower - Kyle was dead.

She'd stood in the church and waited. She'd waited for her fiance to show up and marry her. But he never showed up. She wasn't sure how she knew he hadn't run away. She wasn't sure how she knew he was dead - but she just  _knew._ For three months she'd retreated into her apartment and left only for work.

She spoke to no one. She did nothing. While she grieved, she searched for his killer. But it was like trying to catch smoke. She didn't know where to start. She didn't know  _how_ to start. Everyone she talked to assumed she was just looking for anything to prove he didn't leave her at the altar.

But she knew Kyle. She knew he would never leave her - unless he was dead.

The investigation was long cold before the call had come about the transplant. The reckless loss of her eye had taught her the lesson that it was time, it was, to start getting on with her life. Whatever else was true, Kyle wouldn't have wanted her to become obsessed with finding his killer.

He loved her too much to want her to be lost in the misery of his death.

She needed to find the thing responsible for Helena. She'd failed Kyle. She'd failed him. She couldn't fail her sister. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if she did.

She was waiting for the cab when a soft voice called to her, "Detective Brea?"

Aya turned and found herself looking at a woman in a long red coat. The dark glasses obscured her eyes. The short hair was like an ink-dark version of Aya's in a way. Tall, willowy, the woman walked toward her with a file in her hand.

She offered it and the dulcet sounds of her voice informed her, "Find out about the other organ recipients. How often do you think five organs go to recipients in the same city?"

Aya shook her head, "...who are you?"

The beautiful creature laughed, eyes flashing, "A friend. A friend who knows that Annette Birkin deliberately didn't inform the media of the other recipients. Why? Unless she was hiding something."

The woman studied her face. She dwarfed Aya in sheer height alone. She was magnificent in the way a model would be, all legs and torso. The woman remarked softly, "Has he touched you yet?"

Aya felt more confused than ever and queried, "Who?"

"He will. He's an animal under that calm exterior. He has needs like the rest of us." The woman leaned down until her mouth was beside Aya's left ear and added, "Say yes when he does, won't you? I don't like to see him suffer."

Aya wasn't sure why she allowed it, but she let a stranger lay a hand over the poofy stomach of her jacket and muse, "You'll do. If you play along."

Aya continued to stare at her as if she were mesmerized. The woman cupped her chin next and turned her face into the murky sunlight. "...I wish you weren't so pretty, but you'd have to be to hold his attention. Such is the way of men."

The Amazon in red finally leaned back and added, "Let him know I'm here, would you? And he'll know where to find me. What you want to know about him? It's all in there."

 _Who was this woman?_ She was dropping bombs left and right. Why were the organ recipients kept from the public? Why were they all woven so tightly into the same city? What was it about Raccoon City that seemed shrouded in darkness?

Surprised, Aya glanced down at the folder. It was manilla and labeled:  **Classified.** The code on the front was government related, which meant someone had buried it. Who was she? And how had she gotten ahold of it?

Aya opened the folder to find the first picture nearly caused her to drop it. It was Leon Kennedy's face staring up at her and a dossier as thick as it was dark. The things he'd done and seen and reported. The Kennedy Report itself was packed neatly behind the dossier.

A photograph was sandwiched between two stapled packets. It was Leon bound to a chair and clearly in immense pain. The photo was grainy, black and white, and taken by some kind of machine. It reminded Aya of a photo one might get from a booth but it wasn't funny. It wasn't friendly faces and peace signs - this was a man in the middle of the throws of intense torture. His arms were latched to the chair, his face was thrown back, and something bright reflected on his chest.

Laser?

What the hell was that?

 _He_ was her new boss. But what did that have to do with the goddess in red?

Aya lifted her head to ask, "Who a-"

But the woman in question was gone.

What had she said? Let him know I'm here, she'd said. But who was she?

Aya almost closed the file until something else caught her eye. In the corner of the photo was a single identifier -  ** _Plagas - Type M - Subject 001_**.

 _Type M_? What did that mean? And he was a subject? Of what?

The questions again - without answers. She closed the file. She needed to know so many things and knew nothing. She hesitated, considering what she should do here.

She needed to go to the Apple Inn and tug the line about room 304. She needed to locate Melissa Pearce. But what did any of it have to do with Leon Kennedy?

Why was he immune when everyone else had started to turn and burn and succumb to the power of Birkin?

Was the answer in this file? Were the answers to any of these questions anywhere? What connected all the organ donors? What link was waiting for her to find it?

Was Leon Kennedy the link?

The cab rolled to the curb. She climbed in the back seat and opened the file on her. The cabbie queried, head quirked, "Where to lady?"

And Aya answered, "RPD. Thanks."

Apparently, she was going to confront him. She just hoped he had some answers. She was tired of playing with half a deck.

* * *

**R.P.D. - BCU Office- 11:00 a.m.**

* * *

The failure to find Suzuki on campus the night before was still raw. They'd searched, but Christmas morning on campus was a ghost town. Everyone was gone for the holidays. Security had told them that Dr. Suzuki had left three days before and wouldn't return until after the New Year.

Annoyed, Leon had poured himself into bed and awoken at five a.m. with a hard on that nearly hurt.

He'd had sweaty dreams about Aya Brea climbing on him and holding him down while she fucked him raw. The weird part? He'd liked it. The harder she rode, the more he'd liked it. She topped him like no woman in his life ever had, securing his arms on his chest while she milked him.

He'd awoken before the climax - of the dream or his body, sweaty and panting like he'd run a mile.

Aching, he'd hit the shower and stroked one out in the steam picturing her. What was odd was that his waking self didn't crave her topping him. Following a lady's lead in bed wasn't his style. His waking self wanted to turn her against the shower wall and feast on her. He'd come so hard imagining the flavor of her tits that he'd almost fallen over and killed himself. Whatever it was, his body was drawn to her. It seemed to be connected to his brain enough that he couldn't stop thinking about her.

His balls were tender from the force of his ejaculation, he wasn't sure what that meant. He wasn't sure what any of it meant. But he knew that something at that concert was the cause.

Three days before the concert, his body had started having fever dreams. First, the faceless female claiming him in the dream had been a mystery. He understood now who she was. How had he started dreaming of Aya Brea  _days_ before he'd met her?

And what did it have to do with the organs from Megan Pearce?

He wasn't a recipient. He shouldn't have a damn thing to do with it. But he hadn't burned. He hadn't succumbed to the thrall like the rest of the crowd. He was immune to it - mostly. How?

And why was the need to touch Aya Brea so strong?

Would it stop if she removed the cornea she'd received from Pearce?

Would he feel the same about Sherry Birkin...or Yoko Suzuki when he met her?

He'd felt nothing for Helena but a sense of pity and disgust. Why was Aya different?

He almost didn't hear his phone ringing. That's how far he was into his thoughts. Curious, Leon plucked up the receiver and balanced it on his ear, "Kennedy."

"Mr. Kennedy - I hear you have been searching for me."

The slight tinge of an accent told him that the caller was Asian. Japanese if the Kansai-type pitch accent was any indicator of the dialect ** _._** The A quick two and two together told him it was Yoko Suzuki. Sitting upright in his chair, Leon dropped his boots to the floor.

"Dr. Suzuki?"

"Yes. How can I help you, Director Kennedy?"

"It's Leon. Please." He could almost hear her smile, "You're a hard woman to find, Doctor."

"Yoko. And that's the point of vacation, Mr. Kennedy, to escape...it's been a long time, Leon. How have you been?"

It was a curious thing that both he and Yoko had survived Tall Oaks. At one point, he'd escorted her to the church to away evacuation. The strange part had been losing her again when it all fell apart. For awhile, he hadn't even known she'd survived. But the T-Virus had gotten a piece of her. She lived, she stopped the infection with a late stage antidote called Daylight, but the damage to her body was done. She'd needed a new liver before the disease killed her anyway. It seemed an unfair end to a survivor's story.

Leon grabbed his notepad from the other side of his desk and a pen. "Yoko - have you felt anything...odd lately?"

The small laugh surprised him, "Let's dispense with the leading questions, Leon, and I'll tell you what you want to know. My liver is fine. I'm in good health...and I haven't stopped dreaming since I received it."

Leon licked his lips, nodding, and tapped his pen on the pad. "Dreams? Can you expound on that?"

"Sure. There's a fire - a chariot of it, in fact. And a horse that burns like the chariot. There's a woman, singing, as she takes flight. There's a crowd around her that burns while still fighting each other. They burn while they flee. They burn while they fuck. There's a man in glasses who seeks to steal something. I don't know what. The lab he stands in is dark, and a dog guards the gates like none I've ever seen. He wants what's behind the door. I can hear a woman screaming. I can hear her dying beyond that door. Just before she dies, I hear the cry of a baby."

Leon paused in his writing, "A baby?"

"Yes. I think the man in the glasses wants that baby. Why? I don't know. It was, until now, just dreams. Or so I thought. Because three nights ago, my dreams changed."

Leon paused again and leaned back in his chair, "Did they?"

"Oh, yes. But I think you already know that. What are your dreams telling you, Leon?"

He was so quiet that finally, Yoko laughed, without humor, "Yes. I know you're dreaming. I know, because you're in my dreams, Mr. Kennedy. But you're not in my dreams like the others. I'm over you. Above you. I'm holding you down to take you. We fuck, and it isn't pretty. It's not soft and simple. It's raw. It's dirty. You like it. You crave it. While I'm fucking you, I'm thinking about the moment it's over -and how I'll kill you when we're done."

Leon tapped his boot, chewing his lip, and finally mused, "Graphic."

"Yes. I'm sorry for the candor. But I don't feel like I can afford to be polite here. I left town because I knew I wasn't safe there. I can't come back. I won't come back. If I do, I'm afraid of what I will do."

Leon considered this and replied, "To me?"

Yoko laughed, shaking her head, "In part. The urge to take you is crippling. But it's not romance, Leon, it's pain. I want to hurt you as I claim you. Why? You're not the whole picture here, Mr. Kennedy. I promise you. But I think you should consider why the baby. Why the blood. Why the sex. And why it's you. I think it matters that it's you. Whatever is inside my body, it thinks you have the answers. It wants you, so it can kill you."

The story of his life.

Leon shifted in his seat, feeling a twinge of fear. "Why? Can't it just use anyone to make this baby?"

She laughed again, "I don't have answers. A few months ago, when the dreaming started, I began digging to see what I could find. I contacted a close associate of mine - Hans Klamp. He's a doctor, a good one, and he specializes in biology. He knows things. He knows...more than he should. He's worked closely with Birkin. He was working on something and wouldn't answer my questions. But his name turned up in several studies I referenced regarding transplantation and cross conscious resuscitation. I suggest you see him. He started life as a geneticist, Mr. Kennedy. He eventually obtained a Ph.D and became a researcher at the American Museum of Natural History, studying genes and mitochondria. He's working on something. With something...for something. I'm afraid that something triggered when Birkin brought his G Virus to Raccoon City. I'm afraid of what Dr. Klamp has done. I'm afraid of digging into Megan Pearce and finding out she was a subject of his - unwittingly."

Yoko paused, breathing hard, "You should find out about Derek Simmons and Project Ada. You should look into how...how Derek Simmons would have gotten access to a sample of the T-Virus. Because what you faced...it wasn't T. Not exactly. And there are only two people on Earth that would have had the knowledge to manipulate that virus and produce human like offspring...both of them are in that city right now. Both of them. If you find the link between them to Megan Pearce and you...you'll have your answer. I have to go. Please, don't contact me again. I'm not sure the distance is enough to keep me from doing something drastic here. Even your voice...arouses me."

A curious thing...but it didn't work the same for him. He felt nothing but curiosity about her. He'd met her. She was lovely. But he didn't feel that...pull. That thing that bound him to Aya. Interesting.

Leon shook his head, "I'm sorry, Doctor. I'll do what I can to find the answers. Don't give up."

Yoko laughed, softly, "I've given all my research to Rebecca Chambers, should you need anything from it. Though I don't know what help it will be. I would caution you against getting too close to the fire here, Leon. Those who play God, often find themselves a smoldering pile of ash when they're smited."

"I'm not sure you know me well enough to believe me here, but I'm not the type to run and hide, Doctor. I'll see this through, no matter what that means for me. I'm sorry it's forced you to run."

Yoko laughed, softly, and admired his bravery, "Mr. Kennedy, don't feel sorry for me...I'm not the one that dies in the dreams."

She clicked off.

Leon shook his head, staring at his notes. So much information. The connection was clear - it was the organs. It was the mutation in the organs. But what had caused the mutation?

Birkin?

He was so carefully controlled...but what if he'd lent research to Klamp? What if they'd been working in collusion? On something...else? Could Megan Pearce have been a guinea pig without her knowing?

Was Klamp the Dr. Frankenstein of Raccoon City? Was he making monsters out of mortals without their knowing? With Suzuki gone, how could he even get in to see Klamp?

But he knew that answer too - Chambers. Rebecca Chambers was the head of the department of virology at RU. She'd pull strings for him to get in to see Klamp, he was sure of that.

Leon started to pick up the phone to call her when his door opened.

Aya came through, holding a folder. And there it was. Like a lightning bolt to his groin. The sight of her made his mouth dry. Annoyed, he tossed a folder down onto the desk and blew out a hard breath.

She closed the door behind her and his pulse sped up - fast and scary. Softly, he said, "Maybe leave that door open." He  _hated_ that his voice was a little hoarse.

Her hand hesitated on the doorknob. She looked like a scared rabbit that might bolt, but finally, Aya shook her head. "I can't. This...I can't."

She sat on the other side of the desk, keeping it between them like a shield. She flopped the folder on the desk. Leon glanced at it and back at her face.

She said, "Wanna tell me about the woman in red?"

Oh, it was a good moment. His face processed surprise and shock. But he knew who the hell she meant.  _He knew it._ His face shut down like he'd thrown a switch.

He knew who she was, that Amazon, and he was going to protect her. A curious, curious thing. Old lover?

He leaned back in his chair. "What?"

"The woman in red. I take it you know exactly who I mean by the look on your face. Why is she here giving me folders about you? Why is she here telling me to let you know she wants to see you?"

Leon tapped a finger on his desk, looking at her. He was usually better with his poker face. This girl was going to be the death of him.

Quietly, he lamented, "Women." And considered how much to tell her.

Was there a parallel here between his attraction to Aya and his attraction to Ada? Was it too coincidental? Three letter name, mystery, mixed Asian heritage. Was it all coincidental?

It would seem he, very much, had a type - that much was clear. His body? It liked his women willowy, half Asian, and complicated as hell. Of course, possessed of a strong potential evil side was also in the mix. Sadly for Aya, hers appeared to be inherited. Ada's was cultivated over years of hard work and skulduggery.

Leon tilted his head, "I don't usually put all my cards on the table like that, Aya. Sorry."

Aya opened the folder and pointed to the photo, "What is this? Who are you? Are you even Leon Kennedy? I heard there was cloning involved with Tall Oaks. Did he die and you took over for him?"

It was the first time she'd really begun to consider that the hero spearheading her team...might be a monster in disguise.


	5. Chapter 5

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**December, 2014 –**

**The Former Face of a Hero**

* * *

**R.P.D. - BCU Office - 11:41 p.m.**

* * *

The silence dragged out between them.

Surprisingly, it was a good question. Sadly, it wasn't the truth. He looked down at the photo for a long moment before he answered. Although sometimes it felt like part of him had died there with Adam. He wasn't even mad at her. Hell, that kind of question was why he'd hired her. She was, according to reports he'd read on her, the best damn interrogator in her unit at the N.Y.P.D. She'd never left without a confession.

"That picture wasn't Tall Oaks. That wasn't cloning. It was parasites. In Spain. It was before Tall Oaks. You read the Kennedy Report?"

She nodded her head, "Of course. Everyone has. But that's not in there. I've had the file maybe fifteen minutes and barely even scratched the surface of what's in it."

It didn't scratch the surface on anything. It didn't talk about huddling in the dark listening to parasitic mutants plot his death. It didn't talk about waking up on the floor of a filthy hut to find out you were infected. It didn't mention nearly becoming the monsters you'd been trying to defeat.

Reports didn't leave room for bias.

"Ok. Then don't come charging in here with your panties on fire accusing me of things you don't know about." He rose from the seat and managed to tower over her.

She'd forgotten he was so tall.

But she'd never backed down in her life. She wasn't about to start now.

Leon pointed at the photo, drilling his finger into it. "This is a part of my life that's been disclosed where it matters. It's public record that I was infected with a parasite that was later removed. It's not a secret. And it's not related to what's happening here."

Right?

Hell, even he knew that was a lie.

It was connected. The question was...how?

Aya shook her head, "That's not an answer. It really isn't. Because this woman thinks enough of it to drop it in my lap. She handed me classified documents, Kennedy. Why? What the hell is so important about what I'm going to find in here to make it worth the risk of handing me documents buried under six kinds of security clearance?"

Leon licked his teeth, fuming. Damn Ada Wong, she was always playing with his world. What good could it do to stir this pot? He was already ass deep in alligators here.

She was the thorn in his proverbial side.

And also the only reason he'd managed to survive in Spain. They both knew it. Was she here again to let him know she knew the plagas was related to this? Did she know the plagas was back? Did she know it had never been gone in the first place? Likely the answer to all three was: yes. There was little Ada  _didn't_ know.

But he said, "...women." With a roll of his eyes at the missing spy in red, he added, "I'll handle her. Don't make it your concern. Focus on what matters. Nothing in that folder relates to what's happening here."

"Who is she?"

He shook his head at her, "She's none of your business."

She didn't like that answer at all. Her eyes flashed as she slapped a palm on the file on his desk. "No? She found me in the street. She has a way about her, doesn't she? A thrall. I was kinda mesmerized by how beautiful she was. Were you? She seemed to know a  _hell_ of a lot about me. Which makes me wonder how she knew anything at all. You tell her about me?"

His laugh was dry, "You kidding?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding? She seemed to think you and I were lovers. She seemed to  _know_ that we're...whatever we are with what's happening. She seemed to know you'd want to contact her. She your wife?"

She watched the edge of his jaw flex. He didn't like talking about her, whoever she was. Why?

Aya lifted her hands, palms up, in confusion. "That's an no. So who is she? Who are you? Are you even who you say you are?"

He licked his teeth and took a moment to stare up at the ceiling and gather patience. "Whatever she said to you, it doesn't change anything. I'm me. And I feel ridiculous having to say that out loud, Aya. I'm  _me._ There's only one me."

Was that even true? He'd been in Tall Oaks. He'd seen the clones. Was he a clone?! What kind of science fiction shit was it that had him questioning his own body? "Give me the folder and forget about what's in there. None of it matters right now. I don't want to have to say it again. I don't want to pull rank - but I will if you make me. Leave the damn folder on my desk and go. It's irrelevant."

Aya snatched the folder before he could, tucking it against her body. "Yeah? Then why do you want me to leave it? What does it matter if I read it? What are you afraid I'll find in it? Maybe it says Leon Kennedy is dead."

He laughed, dryly, "I'm right here. I'm not dead."

"Did you come here and stir up this trouble? Are you the reason all those people are dead? Are you the reason my sister is in a coma!?" Her voice rose, accusing him, angry and hurt and scared. "Are you and that goddamn woman here to farm subjects for whatever perverted shit you're playing with? Are you Derek Simmons?! Maybe he lived and Kennedy died on that roof. Maybe he transplanted his fucking brain into your body!"

Half of what she knew was classified. It was classified in a way that he was surprised, impressed, and a little scared that Ada had been able to access any of it. It said she had fingers in pies he hadn't yet begun to guess. "You read more than you think you did if you know that much. But I'll say this, and only this, and  _only_ once -I sent Derek Simmons back to whatever boiling pit of hell he'd come out of in Tatchi. I watched him burn, bleed, and die. No one kidnapped me, drugged me, or experimented on me. Your sister was with me the whole time. I'm not anyone else. I'm Leon Kennedy."

"Well, it's not like I can ask Helena, is it? She's in a coma. Is it your fault? Did you show up and make sure that happened? Prove it...sir. Prove it. How in the hell can I believe anything you say?!"

How in the hell did he prove it?

Why was he having to prove anything at all?

Damn this mess. And  _DAMN_ the woman in red.

He couldn't blame her. Worse? He couldn't answer her. Some of what she was asking was still classified. Just talking about Tall Oaks like this was enough to get them both thrown in jail under the Patriot Act."I can't prove it. I don't have a magic Kennedy card that I can just show you, Aya. You're just gonna have to listen to your gut and decide if you believe me...I came here for a job. Because I needed to start my life over after Tall Oaks. I came here to escape the guy in that goddamn folder. But if it makes you feel better?"

His hand pushed the folder over his desk at her. It fluttered. She watched the anger snap in his eyes. "Read the damn thing, have a ball. Learn all about me that you can from a goddamn document. It won't tell you anything. It won't help you. It won't fix anything. It won't  _change_ anything. I lived it. I survived it. I learned from it. And I left it behind to come here. I'm  _me._ I'm the guy in that folder. Believe it or don't, I can't help you decide."

Aya volleyed her gaze over his face, "And what about the rest of it? Are you the reason the organs...activated?"

It wasn't the right word. She didn't know what the right word was. But it was the best she had.

The swell of fear made his voice low and grumbling, "...I don't know. Does that help? Does it change anything? _I don't know_." His raised voice made her jump. His left hand gripped her left arm above the elbow. He even shook her a little as he said it one more time, "I don't know what's happening to me."

She wasn't sure what was happening either. But he was afraid. It was all over his face. It was in the tightly clenched fist of his left hand. He was as afraid as she was.

The mollified her a little. It reminded her that it wasn't his fault, whatever this was, it wasn't his fault. Her hand lifted off the folder. It trembled a little before her fingers touched his mouth. Why?

Apparently, she wanted to feel him breathe. Like that would what? Prove he was alive? Prove he was  _mortal_?

The rough stubble above his lip tickled the pads of her fingers. His breath was warm. He didn't let go of her arm, but his hand tightened while her's soothed. Aya said, softly, "You're right. I just...I needed someone to blame. I don't know what's happening to me either. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. For all of it. I don't know what the right answer is here. I'm sorry for you."

Leon tugged her a little closer until her hand slid down his neck and settled on his chest. His heart thumped happily against her palm. "For what?" Gruff, it dragged low and soft out of his painfully dry mouth.

"...that you can't ever seem to escape it."

"Sometimes it's not about escaping. Sometimes...it's about  _surviving._ "

The way he talked...the tone, the words, the under current...everything about him was exactly like the lectures she'd been listening to for years. He sounded like Kennedy. He spoke like Kennedy. The pattern of his speech, the lull of his voice...it was the same as the oral version of the Kennedy Report she'd listened to recently. Was it possible for a clone to... _act_ exactly like him? To know the things he knew? How tightly bound was a clone to its original?

She needed to find someone who knew him before, someone she could trust. She needed to find out.

But her sister was in a coma.

And the man standing in front of her might be the reason. He might be the answer. He might be the key to saving her. All she knew? He had some kind of thrall on her that was tightly bound inside of fear that whatever he was...her body was convinced he was the only thing in the world she needed.

Quietly, Aya breathed, "What is this? What's happening with us?"

He had to clear his throat twice to speak, "...I don't know...but I won't stop until I find out."

He leaned over her. Her other hand shifted to his bicep. The folder fluttered to the floor. Their foreheads pressed together and she made a small sound of pain.

Leon felt like he had a buffalo sitting on his chest. His heart thumped so painfully he was sure she'd be able to feel it too. "...tell me to stop."

She rubbed her mouth against his. He didn't return, but he was pretty sure he was going to die in a minute anyway so it didn't make him a hero. Aya eased her fingers into the open neck of his shirt to feel his pulse in his throat as she returned, hoarsely, "...I don't want to."

That was the worst part. Coupled with the painful attraction was some kind of  _knowing._ It was impossible to know someone you'd never met. But it was there. How could they  _know_  each other?

He didn't believe in past lives or mumbo jumbo like that...so what was this? How did he stop it so they could focus on their job here? How did he fight what he couldn't see?

Aya pressed a smooth kiss against his mouth and he let go of her arms. Apparently, he could still control himself. Her hands shifted to his face to pull him down to her...and he didn't bother to stop that...so maybe not complete control. Who the hell was he?

Maybe she was right. Because he didn't feel like himself when he was near her.

She whispered, "...tell me to stop."

Yep. He was going to burn in hell for all eternity because he didn't want to. He didn't want to stop. He hooked a hand around the back of her neck and tugged her to her tiptoes to rub his face on her neck like a cat.

Aya murmured, "You should lock the door."

He started to answer and the door to his office was thrown open as if someone had heard them. They barely dropped their hands off each other in time. Aya immediately ducked to get the folder as Leon shot his hands into his hair, jerked hard, and backed off like she'd caught fire.

Kevin emerged, looking harried, "You want the bad news of the worse news?"

Leon looked away from Aya toward him, "What is it?"

Kevin glanced between them, brow furrowed, but replied, "There's no sign of Birkin. What little we can find of her looks like she just ...poofed. Into the wind. Gone."

Leon shook his head. Aya shifted the file in her hands under her jacket. A curious thing to do. Why?

Leon paused, watching her. A handful of seconds later he figured it out. She was protecting the file from Kevin. Why? Did she think he'd judge? Kevin was a survivor of things she couldn't begin to understand himself.

Did she think he'd -

The thought froze. It shivered. She was protecting Leon. She didn't want Kevin to see the file and assume like she had, that Leon wasn't...Leon?

She was protecting him.

Touched, he almost lost his train of thought before Kevin added, "The other worse news is that there's been a phone call from the Apple Inn."

Surprised, Aya looked at him. "What?"

"Yeah. That's the crazy part...the desk clerk called and said there's been some disturbances down in the boiler room. Maintenance tried to go check it out, but the door was locked. The weird part? The door doesn't have a key. Its metal, sealed, and missing a piece."

Aya glanced at Leon and back at Kevin. Ryman nodded, "That's right. Some kind of puzzle lock that's missing a piece. What kind of shit is that to put in a hotel?"

Leon shook his head, moving around the desk. "We can't blast it open?"

"Nada. It's bomb proof...like some kind of safe room. Or shelter."

"Why is there a bomb shelter under a hotel with a sealed door?"

Why else? They were in Raccoon City - nothing here ever made sense. Leon was starting to think even the founders were crazy. All he knew? He was, for staying here. He should get the hell outta Raccoon City while he could.

Sadly for him? He wasn't the type who ran away. Just this once, he wished he was a coward.

But running from danger just wasn't his style. He was definitely more the type to pick up a gun and charge in before he weighed the risks. He was hoping that wouldn't be necessary.

Maybe they'd luck out and the sealed door would contain a Willy Wonka style magical land filled with candy.

He snorted at himself and rolled his eyes thinking,  _"Never hurts to dream, guy. Maybe after this, you'll take a vacation."_

Who was he kidding? He was  _always_ on duty. It was the story of his life.

Raccoon City remained a place, unlike any Leon, had ever seen. Tall Oaks, in its own way, had mirrored things about Raccoon. Occasionally, he had flashbacks to Tall Oaks as he toured Raccoon. Similar parks, similar streets, similar architecture. The college in Tall Oaks was eerily similar to Raccoon University. Was he looking too hard at it?

Hadn't someone told them the same person had been responsible for the city planning in both?

Distracted, he didn't notice that Aya and Kevin were still talking behind him. Kevin had just mentioned the lock on the gate by the pier was a puzzle lock.

Aya had followed them into the hallway and toward the stairs. She piped in, curiously, "The city is full of strange things like that. Has anyone ever noticed?"

Leon nodded as they moved toward the bullpen. "There's something missing in the fountain here."

Surprised, Aya glanced at the beautiful goddess in the foyer with her arms upstretched. The woman seemed to be greeting the dawn above them. She glanced at the baseline of her copper beauty and found what Leon had mentioned - three octagonal pieces were missing from her base.

Why?

Kevin made a sound of awe, "Nice dude. I never even noticed."

Leon shrugged, "There's strange stuff in any place. But this was once - what? A museum of some kind?"

Aya nodded, "An architectural marvel. I think it was sorta like a  _Ripley's Believe it or Not_."

Great. A police station that was once a museum of weird. The fun just kept on going. What kinda town was this?

He glanced at Kevin. "I'll go check out the hotel. You and Aya go visit doctor Hans Klamp over the at American Museum of Natural History. Buzz Rebecca at RU first before you go and see if she can get you in."

Aya paused, considered, and requested, "I'd like to go to the hotel with you if that's alright."

Kevin's brows bobbled where she couldn't see it. Leon resisted rolling his eyes, "I don't think y-"

"Please? Sir..." Ouch. Sir. She paused and pressed on. Best to distance them here. He was her superior, like it or not. "Sir...investigating Pearce mentioned the Apple Inn. There's a room I need to check out. You can look into the boiler room while I do that. Please?"

Leon tapped his finger on his leg and finally nodded, "Alright. Kevin, get Bo and try to get in to see Klamp. If he has anything at all that can help us, find out if he's open to meeting with me this evening."

"Got it." Kevin backed up, mimed making out with himself toward Aya, and had Leon giving him a dull look. "Check ya later...sir."

And he was once more alone with a woman whose face was responsible for the hardest orgasm of his life.

UGH.

Leon slid into the driver's side of the black unmarked SUV they gave him at the motor pool. Aya joined him, sitting in the back seat.

Amused, Leon pulled out onto the snowy road. "Comfortable back there?"

"I feel it's best for all involved, sir."

Sir.

Yuck. He felt like her father. Maybe it was good. Maybe it would keep the distance here.

He eyed her in the mirror, "The little girl by the fountain. Have you seen her again?"

Aya shook her head, watching out the window. "No. You?"

"No. I wish she'd show back up. I get the feeling she was trying to tell me something that matters here."

Aya sighed, "Paranormal interaction is never that straight forward." She was right about that. No lie there.

Leon tried not to smirk, "I spoke with Yoko Suzuki before you stormed my office."

Aya met his gaze in the mirror, "Oh? Was she helpful?"

"Sort of. She mentioned Klamp and his connection to her and Birkin. There might be a link there."

Aya nodded, looking out the window and away from his gaze. "Good. Any link helps. I'm hoping room 304 has meaning to Melissa Pearce. Something that links it all to Megan."

"We might find that Megan Pearce worked with Klamp and Birkin too."

Aya nodded as he rolled to a spot in front of the hotel. "I thought of that as well. A circle of connections right?"

"Looks that way," He paused and considered before he spoke again, softly, "All the organ recipients started having dreams three nights ago."

Aya met his gaze again in the rearview mirror. They sat, still and warm, for a long moment before she spoke. "...yes."

His pulse sped up. Her eyes were beautiful. Some shade of blue and purple in the one eye that resonated. He wanted to look away, but he kept staring back at her. "I'm not a clone."

Surprised, she blinked. "A clone would say that."

His mouth twitched, "True. I'd make a pun about clones, but you'd just copy it."

Aya couldn't stop the groan. "I doubt a clone could muck up dialogue that badly."

Leon laughed, lightly, unoffended, "Probably. I didn't die in Tall Oaks, Aya."

She nodded, holding his gaze. "I  _know_. But I had to ask."

Leon started to let the conversation drop there. But his mouth decided it wasn't done as he said, "Sometimes I wish I had though."

Aya set the folder in her hands down beside her. Against her better judgment, she leaned forward and put her hand on his leather-clad shoulder. "...I'm really glad you didn't."

Damnit.

This isn't how one kept their distance.

He turned his head to look at her. The car was warm. She was close. She smelled like lemons or something. His nostrils flared to scent her.

She didn't pull her hand back. He wanted to switch gears here and say something about Helena and the other girl in the hospital that had received an organ...what was her name? Baker?

But she said, "...I started dreaming of you three days ago...but you didn't have a face at first."

He cleared his throat. He scanned hers. Hoarsely, he answered, "Yeah. Me too. What happens to us when it's over?"

Her voice was whisper soft when she replied, "...I don't know. I never get past the part when I start cumming."

His brain blanked.

And then it simply fell out of his ear...probably.

His mouth admitted, "...me either."

Aya leaned forward, drawling, "We should get out of this car."

"We should...SUVs are not our friends." But he leaned toward her anyway.

Like they were magnets that just couldn't stop attracting.

Insanity. But there it was.

Their foreheads touched, making them both sigh. Aya leaned the last bit in to press her mouth to his. Just soft. Just so soft. Smooth.

Aya murmured, "We're on duty.".

And he breathed, "...the story of my life _."_

She caught her breath and trembled, "This is really bad. How did the dream end for Yoko Suzuki?"

Their eyes opened. Their eyes locked, he admitted, "...she killed me."

Like ice water on flaming flesh, it broke the moment. Aya snapped back, shaking her head sharply, "...I knew it.  _I knew it._ Touching you will get you  _killed."_

He shook himself like a dog coming out of water. "Hold on now. Wait a minute. Neither of us has ever finished the dream. Why? Maybe it doesn't end that way for us. Maybe that's why you're the only woman I saw in that damn concert. Maybe that means something."

Aya held his gaze, angry now, "It doesn't matter,  _sir._ It will  _never_  happen."

He cleared his throat, twice. "Aya...we can hardly be near each other without this painful attraction happening. I don't know about you, but I'm just flesh and blood here. How long can you hold out against something like that?"

She smiled, sadly, "I don't know. But I know it can be forever if the alternative is killing you. I need your help. I need you. I can't kill you just because something in my body wants to fuck you. Unlike boys - I'm not ruled by my dumb stick."

She slid out of the SUV and left him in the silence. Well...that was insulting as all hell. She was implying he couldn't control his dick.

He watched her run in those skinny jeans without looking back. He watched her mount the stairs and disappear into the hotel. His mind told him the butt under those jeans was a runners - honed and perfect.

Damnit.

Maybe she was right.

He'd fought off the plagas in Spain, but it had been close. What if this thing was feeding off the plagas? What if the plagas left in him was...strengthening it?

What if the parasite in him...was hungering for the parasite in her?

It was hotter in this car than two rats humping in a wool sock. He wasn't sure there were enough Hail Mary's on Earth to free him from that kind of evil. It would, literally, have taken residence inside of them.

The heel of his hand rubbed briskly at his sternum. His heart beat hard and fast in some combination of fear, need, and torture. All three were the bane of his existence.

His eyes closed and flashed on Tall Oaks - a bus full of screaming people. A monster with a face blasted away in a shotgun spray. The race for safety - the fall to failure.

He'd woken up on the side of the road while the fire blazed behind him. He'd failed to save anyone at all on that bus. Only Helena had risen beside him to offer little comfort.

He'd lost things in Tall Oaks that were impossible to talk about. He'd given away parts of himself to raise his gun on the man who'd helped groom him into the man he was today. His commander and chief, his friend, his hero - Adam had died on the floor at his feet with his face a canoe.

He was nearly positive he'd left pieces of himself in Tall Oaks...but was it possible he'd left himself there? Leon looked at himself in the rear view mirror for a moment. Was he a clone?

Had he hatched in an egg and that was why there was a parasite fused to his ribs? Was he a monster with a hero's face?

_What matters.._

It couldn't. It didn't. He was the only thing between whatever was out there and the rest of the world. Bad guy or not, he was the last stand. The girl in that Inn was trusting him with her life, her sister's life, and the lives of the rest of Raccoon City.

Who he was, it didn't matter anymore.

The question of whether or not he was still Leon Kennedy was relative.

Whoever he was...he was on borrowed time.


	6. Chapter 6

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**December 2014 –**

**Chapter Six:**

**The Feelings that just won't Die**

* * *

**1:11 p.m. - Raccoon University - Main Floor Monitoring Station**

* * *

With a cup of coffee in her hand, Rebecca Chambers was curled up on her chair watching the eleven monitors that guarded the various locations around the university. Students came and went, laughed and lingered, walked and hurried - it was what her life had looked like when she was barely sixteen. She'd graduated from high school at fifteen, excelled into medical school at sixteen, and become a doctor in two years.

She could treat illness, dissect frogs, and create antidotes with the best of them. She was no William Birkin, as there was still plenty she didn't know about virology and basis of creation, but she was learning. She'd been blessed to work with him often since she'd come to Raccoon City to serve for a few years on the S.T.A.R.S. before being offered tenure at the University for research into developing cures for biological agents.

He was a genius. There was no getting around that. What Birkin knew, it could change the world for the better. If he didn't lose his way as most of his predecessors did playing god.

The unexplained attraction Kevin had just told her about between Kennedy and Brea was fascinating. It had so many layers to the  _why,_ she wished she could start digging into it right away, but she needed some blood to even begin. Helping out might be the first step in getting them to agree to give her a sample.

Rebecca glanced up at Kevin who was perched on her desk sucking on a Blow Pop. Kevin was always trying to quit smoking. It was his constant struggle. Admittedly, he was pretty adorable with a grape sucker stuck in his mouth.

He gave her a puppy dog look and finished what he'd been saying, "Come on, B. Come on. You know Klamp. We know you do. Suzuki said to ask you about him. She said to make sure you got all her research too so you could help us out here. I just want to talk to him. How hard is that?"

Rebecca shifted and scooped back her long hair into a ponytail at the base of her neck. She'd let it grow long after her time in S.T.A.R.S. Since she wasn't fighting anymore, she was content to enjoy the perks of being a girl again. "...I don't know. The last time I did you a favor, you ended up hitting on the head of the virology department at Yale."

Bo snorted where he was poking at tanks with floating pig fetuses across the room. "No fucking manners, this guy."

Kevin defended himself by saying. "Hang on now, we had a nice dinner, she and I. More than, if I do say so myself."

Rebecca rolled her eyes and clicked on the screen that showed her the quad. Four kids were sharing textbooks on the table with Starbucks between them. She missed those carefree days sometimes. She was often the girl on the outside anyway, being way younger and way smarter than her classmates. She gave Kevin a heavy sigh and said, "You slept with her, you idiot, and then didn't even bother to call her again."

Kevin shrugged as Bo laughed and shook his head, "What? She knew what was going on. I meant to call...maybe. I don't remember. Come on, B. This is important," He grinned at her and urged, "I'll buy you that shitty latte stuff you love every day for a week."

She gave him a narrow look and leaned back in her chair. So, it was about negotiation it seemed. "...a month."

"Dude...I'll be broke. Two weeks. Be fair."

Rebecca tilted her head to the side. It was interesting to look at Kevin sometimes. He managed to lose a little bit of his sheen standing next to Leon, but she imagined most men did in that moment. What was interesting? She'd always liked Kevin's gruff weathered face better.

So she shrugged and said, "Ok. Two weeks. And two dinners."

Bo bobbled his brows as Kevin tapped his nose and rolled the sucker in his mouth, "...deal. You like sushi?"

She rolled her eyes and clicked on her keyboard, "Is that an oral sex joke?"

Bo chuckled, "I heard  _any time_  he goes down its a joke."

Kevin gave him the finger and grinned around his sucker, "You'd have to ask your mom, Bo. She'd know."

Rebecca laughed and sighed at their crass humor. "You guys are twelve years old. Seriously. But I'll get you in to see Klamp. Give me a minute to make the call."

Kevin leaned down and tapped her nose, winking at her, "There's my girl. We'll head that way then. Seven thirty? Dinner? How's Italian grab ya?"

She shook her head, watching them head toward the door. Charmed, annoyed that she was, and amused by him, she called back, "You know you have to  _pay_ for the date right? Or it doesn't count?"

In the hallway, Kevin glanced at Bo's amused face and mused, "Really? Is that a thing? I'm broke."

Bo rolled his eyes as they hit the parking lot to climb into the cruiser, "Who told you about women, Ryman? You don't know a damn thing about romance."

Kevin shrugged as he fired up the cruiser. "I do alright. My face makes the ladies wet. We have a drink. We fuck. Everybody wins."

Bo gave him a bored expression and shook his head, "Lord. My mama just rolled over in her grave listenin to that shit. You are a piece of work, my friend. A piece of work."

"So I hear," Kevin considered things and added, "You think Klamp will tell us anything worthwhile?"

"I hope so...this shit? It's a mess."

That was putting it mildly.

Back in her office, Rebecca was on the phone with Hans Klamp, "Dr. Klamp, anything you can offer to help would be a huge favor to the department. We'd happily donate to your charity or something to express  _our_  gratitude."

In his office, Hans Klamp looked at the long row of test tubes hidden beyond the prying eyes of the world. What they didn't know, would ultimately kill them all. How could he protect it? They were sniffing too close.

If they found the link between him and Birkin, what else would they find?

Would they find the lab? Would they find the NEST? Would they find the... _others_? How did he protect it all when he knew that  _she_ was pulling the strings to help them? How did he get rid of  _her_?

From his mouth, the answer he gave Dr. Chambers was a happy one, "Oh, I am at your great and noble service, Rebecca. I would be honored to help the investigation. Anything I can do to aid in the end of the abuse of science, you know that."

Rebecca smiled and nodded, "Thank you, Dr. Klamp. They'll be there soon. We're grateful for your help."

They clicked off. Klamp waited a moment and picked up his phone and dialed another number. When they answered, he told them, "I think she's awoken. I think it's time. And I think it might be too late to stop them. What should I do?"

On the other end of the line, the calm voice told him, "What else, Doctor? Let them find the truth. In a few months...none of it will matter anyway. Lead him to you, she'll follow him there. The more, the merrier...that's how you fight a war, after all, not with one soldier...with  _many."_

With a sharp intake of breath, Hans Klamp prepared himself to die a martyr for the cause, and answered, "Yes, sir. Anything...for the  _family._ "

* * *

**2:16 p.m -Apple Inn- Room 304**

* * *

Nothing.

Zip.

The room was nicely decorated in chintz and floral. It was soft colors and pretty lace curtains. It had all the markers of a cute Bed and Breakfast...and was empty. Nothing in a drawer. Nothing under the mattress. Nothing in the bathroom.

Zilch.

She'd just about given up looking when the door of the room opened and Leon poked his head in.

"Hey...any luck?"

"Sadly, no. You?"

"Not on my end. The missing piece of that door? I have no clue where to find it. There's nothing short of a tank getting through that thing either. Somebody went to a lot of trouble to hide whatever's down there."

Aya nodded and gestured to the pretty headboard. "The only thing I've found here is an inspiration for my bedroom. The wrought iron railing makes the whole thing seem Victorian, right?"

He smirked, stepping into the room. "I don't know. I'm not up on my interior design enough to guess."

She smiled, shaking her head. Why did he have to be funny? She flashed, for a moment, on Kyle's face. It was enough to have her turn away toward the window.

"The room overlooks the park. But it's far enough away that all I can see is the clock tower. The gardens down below are pretty. But she marked this place. This room. Why?"

Leon stepped behind her, glancing out the window with her. "I can't begin to guess. Was she leading someone here? Meeting someone? Maybe whoever it was is long gone."

Aya shook her head, "Damnit. We need something, anything, to pan out for us here. We're just running in circles. Hoops in hoops. What's the big connection? What's the one thing that will tie it all together?"

Leon shrugged, lightly, "It's not a video game, kid. I don't think it works that way."

"Sometimes I wish it was. Then I could just reset it when things don't go my way."

He tilted his head, glancing at her profile. "What? This case?"

She glanced at him and the sun flickered in his eyes. Blue. Pretty. Like gray skies and blue flowers or something. She was waiting for the clouds to soar through the middle of them. But she said, "Life. A year ago I had it all. Now..."

She trailed off and shook her head, looking back out the window. "I'm alone. I don't know how I got here."

Surprised that it mattered, he felt that resonate in his chest. There was that thing again - his heart reacting to her. But this? It wasn't any parasite. It was the man in him. The man who liked the woman. Under the weird attraction, he liked the woman.

And he answered, "Shit happens sometimes. Not because we're destined for it, Aya. Just because it happens that way. Life sucks. There's no reset button."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she spoke, "I can't lose my sister, Kennedy. I don't think I'll survive it."

He volleyed his gaze over her profile. He felt his hand clench at his side, but he risked it anyway. His fingers closed over her elbow and he murmured, "I won't let that happen. I promise."

A strange thing to promise a woman he barely knew. But just like in the SUV, he knew he wanted to comfort her. He wanted to make sure she understood he'd protect her. It was a warrior's instinct, sure, but it was still rare for him. He hadn't felt protective of someone like that in a long time.

Her eyes opened and landed on his, "You can't keep that kind of promise. Even you. They say you didn't come back whole from Tall Oaks..."

He felt his jaw clench, "You lose pieces sometimes doing what we do. It's part of the job. It's part of the cost. But you take the happiness where you can find it, you don't give up, and you get back up. Otherwise? The bad guys win."

Her eyes roved his face and found it earnest, sincere, and strong. He was pure determination. What had Helena said? Loyalty. It was what motivated him. He'd been loyal to Adam Benford. He'd lost more than a President in that horrible city. He'd lost a friend.

She knew he'd find out what happened to Helena. She believed him. Because he was loyal in his bones. How could you clone that? Something just...resonated from him. It seemed like no science in the world would be able to duplicate it.

Quietly, she queried, "...maybe sometime you can tell me about Tall Oaks."

He scanned her face and answered, gently, "Sure. When this is all over, we'll get some coffee. I think.. there are things you should know to be in a unit like this one. There are protocols and survival strategies and skills. I'll teach you. If you want to learn."

She nodded and took a long, slow, breath, "...I was so excited to join BCU. I was so ready. I don't know if I'm cut out for it."

He took another risk and squeezed her arm. "You protected me when I panicked last night. You did that. You have good instincts. I think you need to trust them."

An interesting comment, but she took him at his word. And her instincts said:  _you both need a hug._

Aya shifted toward him. Her left hand slid against his face. Her right went under his jacket. He kept one hand on her elbow and looped the other around her waist. It was a smooth hug, a good hug, tight and compressing.

It was a strange thing to hug a man she hadn't even known for twenty-four hours.

But it didn't feel strange. It felt good. It felt right.

The thing in them that had no name? Or just a spark between two people?

She didn't think either of them had an answer and at this moment? She wasn't sure it mattered.

Her parka puffed happily as she shifted into his body. The leather coat he wore was soft, buttery, and black edged in white stripes. What did they call that? A motorcycle jacket. Her hands shifted to unzip it. He could have stopped her.

But he didn't.

The shirt he wore beneath was a red tee, graced with a faded logo of something that she wanted to call Transformers. She wasn't a hundred percent sure, as it was an old shirt, clearly, but it was worn over a white thermal beneath it that was keeping him warm. It wasn't at all professional. Why did that make her like him more?

The leather sighed as she put her arms inside the jacket to touch his waist.

She would have never been that brazen with a man she just met - and never, ever, in a million years with a man who was her superior. It was the thing in her, clearly. Her hands roved under the thermal to touch the skin of his back.

And that? That wasn't the thing in her.

Nope. Not the thing in her. Just her.

She liked touching him.

The thing in her just gave her permission...and someone to blame.

She wasn't an aggressive woman by nature. She'd never been a dominant lover, not really. But she was both here.

His hugging hands moved to grip her arms above the elbows. He restrained her, gently, but firmly. His voice was so very soft, "...wait."

Aya nodded, unable to look him in the face, but unable to stop touching him either. She stared at their feet and breathed, "...I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Just...wait. We're not animals. Right? This is just stupid. It's stupid and wrong. We're in danger here. We could be in danger. I don't do this kind of thing, Aya. Ever."

Her belly pulsed with sympathy. He sounded so lost. He sounded so frustrated. She nodded, she trembled, but her mouth said, "...I won't hurt you."

Leon laughed, lightly, so dryly, and returned, "...I'm not afraid of you."

Her nails raked against his back, so so so lightly, "...aren't you?"

She was right in a way. They should be afraid of each other. There was more at play than passion here. There was more at stake. Something linked them that had no name. Something that needed to be stopped.

And it wasn't just them anymore.

Leon thought:  _it's time to let her go now._

But he...couldn't. So? He dragged her closer.

Those hands on her arms shifted to jerk at the zipper of her coat. She gasped and moaned like a whore. It scared her, it thrilled her, it made her intensely aware that she was floating inside her own body.

I won't hurt you, she's said. Did she think she could? He was twice her size. He was all muscle. He'd gone foot to fist with a troll that size of a building. If she weighed a buck ten soaking wet, he'd eat his watch. Hurt him?

Who was she kidding?

Outside of the dream, the moment that slid around them was all him. There was no lying back while a woman claimed him. There was no fear here of being "taken" or "topped". There was some kind of feeling that he wanted to...what? Prove he wasn't a bottom?

Maybe. Maybe. And he didn't like that about himself at all.

He would have stopped, but she urged him on, "...touch me."

His blood was  _roaring._  He couldn't hear anything but it, and her and whatever madness was woven around them like a sensual prison.

His arms dipped under her butt as he lifted her around him. Her legs looped. Her back hit the wall as he pressed her into it. Faster now. More. She bucked against him and his body dry humped hers into the wall. Her hands looped around the wrought iron light fixture to brace herself for him. He tried to feast on her through the thin t-shirt she wore. She moaned again, encouraging him.

She forgot, for a moment, what they were doing here.

He forgot, for a moment, who he was.

Her fingers dipped down, sliding against his belly. She grabbed for the fly of his jeans. She didn't want all this touching. The touching was leading nowhere.

She had a  _need._

She was burning with it.

Her mouth broke out a gasp as he palmed her butt over her jeans, "Take them off. Ok? Take your pants off."

Sure. That made perfect sense in the middle of a hotel room where they'd hoped to find a transplant recipient. In the middle of a potential hostile danger zone where they were exposed and vulnerable. That all made perfect sense.

Yep.

He hitched her higher around his waist, his left hand going for the zipper of her pants. "I can't get it."

And Aya gasped, hoarsely, "Rip them."

That made sense too. Rip jeans. Sure. Why not?

He turned, tossing her onto the bed. Strong, she thought almost madly, he tossed her like she weighed nothing. She laughed with delight.

It bumped as she landed, scooting on her butt back until he reached for her again. He grabbed her ankles to jerk her toward him and ran his hands down the inside of her denim clad thighs. They fell open for him like an invitation.

And his mouth growled, "Tell me what you want."

She dragged his hands to her groin and rubbed one against her like a pervert. Her eyes flashed. His other hand gripped the back of her neck to drag her up and watched her face. His other hand found her zipper this time and jerked. It was loud and metallic in the quiet room. She panted, harshly, and echoed him. She rubbed at him over the denim covering his erection.

She had two buttons undone on his fly when a book hit him in the back.

Surprised, he let go of her. Aya blinked, clutching at him, and Leon turned to find a vase taking flight. He ducked, barely avoided being creamed by its path, and it smashed into the wall above the bed.

Aya stopped grabbing for him, shaking on the bed. "What the hell was that?"

Leon shook his head, glancing at her, "I don't know...ghosts?"

Aya scrambled back on the bed, rapidly zipping up her pants. Whatever it was, she owed it a thank you. It had just saved them from a colossal mistake here. She pointed at Leon, shaking her head as she gained her feet.

"Damnit.  _Damnit."_

He backed off, hands raised, "I know. I won't touch you."

"It's not you." Aya shook her head, circling away from him toward the mantle that had recently lost a book and a vase, "Ok..it  _is_ you...but it's not your fault. Whatever this is with us...it's better if we just stay FAR APART."

Hard thing to do, when she wanted to be  _on top of him._

They faced off like two people whose touch would kill the other. Theirs would...wouldn't it? The uncertainty kept them far apart.

Leon nodded, backing up toward the bathroom door. "Seems fair. I'll stand over here. You see anything?"

Aya crouched, poking at the pieces of the vase. She almost said no...almost...but among the broken shards was a tiny little silver disk no bigger than her palm. Her fingers plucked it up and she frowned. Etched on the front was the face of someone familiar.

She rose, showing it to him. "Who's this?"

He narrowed his eyes, "I can't tell from here. I'm old enough that my eyes aren't what they used to be. You're gonna need to bring it closer."

Aya gave him a cool look. "You kidding? I might throw you down and dry hump your face."

He laughed. He couldn't help it. The image both turned him and was comic. Evil parasites from hell, seriously, it was time to get this thing out of him. He shrugged, "Or toss it."

That was risky too. But it was better than moving over there and ending up face down, ass up on the bed getting drilled. He was probably the type who'd want to kiss while they did it too. Turning her face to the side to plumb her mouth with his tongue while he slid in an o-

She threw the disk to stop her train of thought before it killed her.

Leon bobbled it and caught it against his chest, "Ouch. You trying to kill me with it?"

"Maybe."

"You got some stank on that arm, kid. You play ball?"

Aya laughed, shaking her head, "Third base. Eight years."

"Figured." He glanced down at the disk. Octagonal. Silver. The etching was the same as the one in the goddamn town square. He lifted his gaze to hers. "It's Spencer."

"Who?"

"Oswell Spencer. One of the founders of Raccoon City."

"I don't un-"

But he wasn't waiting. She had to chase him out of the took the stairs two at a time and his gait was so fast that she was breathless when she found him down by the boiler room.

He slid the disk into the slot of the door and it clicked, rotated, and sank back as a small door closed over it. The doors groaned. The dark shivered. And the metal rose up with a whoosh of gears grinding.

Surprised, Aya mused, "How-"

Leon shook his head and drew his gun, surprising her again. She echoed him, shifting automatically to flank the other side of the door. He gestured into the dark with his head.

Aya glanced beyond the door, unsure of what he was seeing.

It only took a moment for the sound to reach her ears. A shuffling. A scrambling of something on stone. Her brows shot up and Leon nodded. Whatever it was in there, he knew better than her.

In fact, he looked angry and afraid, which meant it wasn't good.

But it was also what they were trained for. Aya went through all the training in her head of the things she'd been prepped for. Zombies. Mutations. What could exist in complete darkness and still be a threat?

_Something that didn't need to see._

And she finally looked back at Leon in horror.

* * *

**Lecture Hall -Quantico - 2013**

* * *

"Speculation is far fetched on the original creation of bioorganic weapons," The wise face of Barry Burton lectured as he gestured to images that appeared on the screen behind him. The lecture hall was filled to the brim with agents in early stages of training, "But what we know now is that B.O.W.S. are a massive threat. Their ability to adapt, excel, and overcome affords them speed and strength that no human can rival."

With a raise of a hand, a curious patron asked, "So how do we fight them?"

Burton nodded at the question and clicked the remote in his hand to bring up another picture. This one was a monster. A horrible thing that looked like naked muscle ripped inside out as if someone had pulled a man apart like inverting a sock. Where sinew met muscle, the white and bloody connection was disgusting, granting the view the ability to see each mass of working veins and bones. The claws on the ends of its arms were hooked and horrible, suggesting it could eviscerate you in a single swipe.

The brain at the bulbous top of its head was the worst of it. Pulpy, purple, and pulsing the thing begged you to stare as if you'd learn how the body functioned just by looking. The room was quiet as it gasped and absorbed.

Barry nodded, "When the T-Virus goes dormant, the body it's gestating within has the ability to either reject or acclimate to its mutation. If it accepts it, one of the earliest stages we've found are these. The scientific name is something long and boring. But for us? We call them lickers. Why? They have tongues as long as a man and as thick as your leg. They'll choke you, gut you, eat you, and kill you before you can even scream.  **Lickers**  are mutant humans that result from the V-ACT process, a trait in certain t-Virus strains which forces the second set of mutations among severely injured Zombies. Lickers are noted for their large, exposed brains, lack of skin and eyes, extreme sensitivity to sound and their eponymous tongues (*1). They should not be confused with Crimson Heads, mutants which are the result of a separate t-Virus strain undergoing this process."

And someone wondered, "How the hell do you fight it then?"

Barry laughed, watching the crowd, "You don't. Lickers are blind. The inversion of their flesh and muscle eliminated their eyes. They operate solely on sound. If you don't run, they won't chase you. They might not even know you're there."

And someone else asked, "Might?"

"Sure. Nothing is full proof. Maybe you farted when you shouldn't have...either way, it's a hunter. It's not a guarantee that tiptoeing is going to keep you alive. So if you have to fight? Fire."

Someone laughed and Barry called, "You think I'm kidding? Pray you have an incendiary option in your hands. Otherwise? Failing that? Hope you get a chance to disable that brain. A big fucking knife if you don't have a sword. Or? Become a  _HELLUVA_ shot."

A voice piped up, "Like Kennedy? We all read the reports. We all heard about Tall Oaks. Why isn't he here giving us this lecture?"

Barry arched his brows and shook his head, "Why? Because he got too close to a Crimson Head in Tall Oaks."

A voice whispered, "What's a crimson head?"

To answer that, Barry popped up the photo behind him of a zombie mutated to be a greater threat. Faster. Smarter. Hungrier. And much more infectious.

That voice returned, "Holy shit! Was he infected?"

Barry rolled his eyes. "Forget him. Focus on this. You hear to learn? Or fangirl over Leon Kennedy?"

Everyone laughed. Barry flipped back to the picture of the licker and waited, looking out over the crowd, "Now...who has questions about this goddamn thing?"

And every single hand in the room went up.

* * *

**2:48 p.m. - Apple Inn- Boiler Room**

* * *

A licker.

What else could it be?

Aya gave Leon a wide-eyed expression. He nodded and signaled with his hand for her to wait. He held up three fingers to her. Wait three seconds? She thought, madly, was he kidding!? But he shifted into the darkness and didn't look back.

She waited, listening for anything.

On three, she shifted soundlessly into the room.

The dark closed around her immediately. Following her instincts, Aya moved toward the steady roar of the boiler running. She heard a scuffling of those claws in the dark. She closed her eyes, eliminating the brain confusion.

And somewhere in the black, Leon Kennedy whistled.

Surprised, Aya heard the warbling shriek of the thing that waited. It made a garbled cry and she heard it rush toward him. Aya opened her eyes, attempting to track the sound of those claws on stone.

And then something happened. Something in the darkness shimmered. She blinked and realized she could  _see it._ She could see the thing in the dark as if she were looking through a filter.

It shimmered purple as it moved.

She rubbed at her eye and it disappeared. When she opened her eye again, it shimmered. Her heart thumped as she closed the eye that wasn't hers...and the thing disappeared completely.

The donor eye...it could see monsters in the dark.

Aya closed her other eye and opened just the one that once belonged to Megan Pearce. The second her "good" eye shut, the other one gave her full-blown vision. No longer did the licker shimmer as it moved. It was a full shape - a purple image that reminded her of the spots we see when the flash of a camera burns an image into our eyes for a moment.

But this was permanent. It was clear.

She could see the thing that raced over the ceiling.

Her gaze shifted. It slid down. She couldn't see Leon. The dark enveloped him where he was. Whatever gift the eye she used had, it didn't extend to humans.

Just monsters.

She had monster vision.


	7. Chapter 7

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**December 2014 –**

**Chapter Seven:**

**The Trojan Horse**

* * *

**2:22 p.m. - The Statue of Liberty- Raccoon City, New York- Main Observation Deck**

* * *

The trench coat felt very Humphrey Bogart as she moved toward him. It was all such a film noir moment, from her sunglasses to her seemingly conspicuous smile, to the file she held out to him.

From behind both sets of sunglasses, they shared a similar cool gaze.

Aloud, she said, "It's all in there. Everything I can find on the Bakers. You know what this means, right? You understand how complicated it is."

He tucked the file against his side and smiled at her, but it wasn't warm. It was cold. As he was cold. As the air around them was cold with the fluffy fall of coming snow. "Even better than you do, I think. You're sure? Completely?"

"Oh, I'm sure. Are you? Louisiana? It's nothing but bugs and bad weather."

His laughter always made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, "You let me worry about Louisiana, Ms. Wong. You handle Raccoon City. Things will likely turn in the next few months. When they do, let them, encourage them. The sooner the world is watching the fall of a city, the sooner I can sever the chains that bind us both."

Ada nodded, shifting to look out over the ocean that had once brought the poor and the tired to the shores of a new world with hope. Would it turn red with blood as the world burned? What would she do to break free of what bound her here?

Would she watch Raccoon City become Troy? Would she send a horse filled with death into the midst of the innocent and damn them all?

Birkin was the architect of his own destruction. He'd overplayed his hand in an attempt to save his own family. A fool. A failure. A fantastic waste of genius. There was no hope for it.

The only way to break free was to bring the world down around them.

She glanced back at the man in front of her. The heavy black wool coat and the thick white scarf complimented the shock of blonde hair. Cut military short, it left you aware of the strong lines of a painfully handsome face.

There was no way to really know the evil that hid behind that perfect smile.

Ada nodded and felt the first tug of guilt for all the people that would pay the price for her freedom. "Consider it done."

"Good girl," He shifted toward the exit and glanced back over the rolling water himself for a moment, "...I've always thought of winter as a time of slumber. The eve of...a new beginning."

He shrugged a shoulder and turned away to keep walking, "It's time for Raccoon City to have a wake-up call. Don't stop Birkin. Let her awaken. Let William lie in his own bed. What he's done...there is a reckoning for it. Let them show him how Dr. Frankenstein died. Be sure it goes according to plan. Finish it. I will see you in Louisiana. Ada."

"...Wesker."

"A pleasure."

Was it? Nothing with him ever was. He was just another creation. He was just another creature. He was just another parasite. And he was going to leave behind the city he'd helped consign to death...on the eve of its destruction.

Hesitating, she called anyway, "What about Kennedy?"

He shrugged as he walked and answered, "You're sure he'll perform?"

She closed her eyes and drew a sharp breath, "Yes. He won't deny himself for long."

"The girl?"

"She's...his type."

He laughed, "Of course she is. She looks like you, I hear. And yet...it took you how long to slither your way into his bed?"

Ada licked her teeth at the tug of jealousy, "She is..sweeter. Softer. He'll...respond to her."

"Too sly for him after all, weren't you? Sometimes you overplay your hand, Ada. Remember who you're opponent is in the future. Get what you need from him and finish him off. It's fortuitous that you resisted the command the first time around. It turns out, he was necessary after all. Don't come against me again, Ada. I warned you in Spain. I don't usually offer second chances. The good news for you? I think you've earned one.."

"...will you release me when it's done?"

He didn't answer. She called again as he was swallowed into the fog and the snow. "Albert! Will you release me!?"

Of course, there was no response. She had no hope for it anyway.

She stood in the cold snow and let the guilt be her only ally. Was she even human anymore?

Whatever else was true, she was bound in chains to the monsters.

* * *

**3:12 p.m. - Apple Inn- Boiler Room**

* * *

It was twice in purple highlighter as it might have been in the light.

No lecture on earth could prepare you for a licker in person. It was faster than anything she'd ever seen. It scuttled, making a chittering sound that reminded her of a stir of echoes.

Aya watched the thing leap. It hit the other wall and skittered down the backside. She had no doubt it was trying to sneak up on the erstwhile warrior that waited to end its existence.

She lifted her gun to end it instead and save him, and Leon's hand slid gently over hers, lowering her weapon. His mouth next to her ear tickled as he whispered, "No need. Wait. Watch. Learn. Cover me."

He shifted forward. He'd been behind her the whole time. Was that why she couldn't see him?

But no. The second he slid in front of her, she felt but didn't see him. He shifted into a low crouch and moved. Aya kept paced behind him. When he stopped, she stopped. There was a snarfling scuffle of the licker trying to find the whistleblower.

And a low metallic sound.

The licker halted, raising its head. Its tongue slid along the stones, slurping like a frog looking for a fly.

It found Leon's boot and looped, happy, so happy...Aya almost warned him, but there was no need. He knew. He let it. It looped, he rose, and his other boot smashed down on that tongue. The licker reared, roaring, and he stuck the knife in his hand hilt deep into its ugly brain. The death was comic even as it was scary.

Out loud, Leon told her, "Never, ever, waste ammo or reveal yourself if you don't have to. Stealth is sometimes your only ally against these guys."

It flopped, it gurgled, it grunted and jerked - and the moment it died, she couldn't see it anymore.

Incredible.

What did that mean?

She could see mon-

Leon turned and his chest...his chest was purple. His chest was purple and split by something that might have been a cockroach or something. It was the size of a fist. It was looped at his...heart? What?

He stepped toward her and Aya put the gun in her hands against his sternum to officially become the first woman in history to get the drop on Leon Kennedy.

He froze. She froze.

Aya snarled, "Stealthy enough for you...clone?"

His laugh was harsh in the dark, "Are we back here again? I'm not a clone."

And she hissed, "Liar. I asked if you were the real. I asked if you'd really survived."

Quietly, he avowed, "I am. I did."

She shook her head, grinding that gun against his chest, "You didn't. You're a monster. What the  _hell_  is in your chest?"

His breathing was harsh, loud, and close. She couldn't see his face, but she didn't need to. She could see his  _parasite._ He answered her, calmly, "I can explain."

"Can you? Really? You kill him? You kill Kennedy in Spain and take over his body? You been living in him all this time?"

She was fucking smart in a way that might get him killed here. She was paranoid, but that was to be expected with what she'd been through. But she was smart. He replied, "How can you see it?"

"Does that matter? I can. Apparently, I'm a parasite too."

He finally spoke, coolly, "...not yet. Neither am I. We're just both carrying pieces of one."

Jesus, it was a good point. Aya glanced to her right. The boiler beside her was stifling hot; steaming, offering plumes of it into the air. But the shimmering steam did what she wanted - it reflected her image back at her.

Purple.

She was purple.

Because just like Kennedy, she was some kind of monster.

Softly, Aya said, "I don't know what to believe anymore."

"Yeah, you do. You just don't like it."

In this moment, she didn't much like him either. She stared at the thing in his chest and watched it wiggle. Jesus. They were both screwed. Maybe it was better if they just sealed that door and died in this room together.

She dropped the hammer on the gun. It was so loud in the dark. A long moment passed in tense silence.

Voice cold, Leon asked, "You gonna fire that thing?"

"...I'm thinking I should kill you now. You sure I shouldn't?"

His hand slapped the wall beside them. There was a chug of sound and a spark of electricity as the lights turned on. With a pop, they could see each other again.

He kept his hands up, open, beside his face. The dead licker at their feet was seeping dirty blood on the cold stone floor. "Not like I used to be. But killing me won't solve anything."

She shook her head, "Won't it? If they can't get to you, they can't use you for whatever your purpose is. You're infected with something like I am. Whatever that is...it's something that these organs want. It matters."

That phrase when he'd met her. It played in his head like a broken record:  _What matters..._ he wasn't sure he knew anymore.

She pressed the gun harder into his sternum, "Maybe killing you is how we stop them."

"Killing me just guarantees they'll win. Even infected, I'm still their worst nightmare."

Her head shook, lightly, "You're so arrogant. How can you be sure?"

He arched a brow...and he proved it.

There was a reason he was the best in the business. One moment she was holding her gun on him, the next and he was holding that gun on her. He kicked toward her knee. To avoid it, she had to back up, just a hair. Just a touch. Just enough.

As she shifted, he swept his forearm and elbow into hers. It pushed the gun out and away, it hyperextended her arms. He dropped his elbow, hooked his other fist at her face and forced her to duck to avoid being hit, and knocked her gun right into his grip. As she rose, he caught her wrist and jerked, spilling her back to his front.

The gun in his hand pressed to the side of her temple as he mused, "You wouldn't be the first woman to try and fail, sweetheart, I promise. I don't die easy. And nobody's getting a damn thing from me that they don't take by force."

Aya considered that, leaned fully back against him and sighed, "...you feel good."

It was too fast. The change in mood too swift. He reeled, trying to find his balance, and  _that_ was entirely the goddamn thing inside of him.

Whatever her game, it worked. His nose actually slid behind her ear like he'd scent her. And she put that weird attraction to her advantage. She jerked his arm, she rolled her shoulder into his sternum, and she used his own momentum to sling him over her back. It was a good move. It was one he used himself, frequently, and proved she knew how to free herself from an armed attacker.

He let her have it. He went over her back, rolled when he hit the floor, and came up to brace his wrists against the kick she launched at him. His hands caught her leg and tugged. She was small and light - size still mattered in hand to hand- and she landed against his front as he rose. He slung her up, spun her around, and shoved her into the wall. She hit, hard enough to steal her air, and he jerked her wrist up behind her shoulder blades again to pin her.

" _Agent Brea,"_ Using her title might just remind her where they were,"...this isn't the time or the place to test my authority."

He was right. She wasn't herself. She had no excuse but that. Sheepishly, she answered, "I know. I'm sorry. I'm losing it here. My emotions...they're all over the place. I can't seem to find my feet."

With sympathy, Leon let her go. He shook his head, watching her. "That makes two of us. Trust me to know when I'm at my limit. Things get hairy, I'll run for the hills like Suzuki."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. How did you know about the parasite in me?"

Aya breathed heavily, watching the blood seep around her boot. She glanced at the licker and changed the subject, "The picture didn't do it justice."

Leon glanced down at the dead licker on the floor. It was the first time he'd bothered to look at it. In the ensuing struggle, it seemed irrelevant. But the lights cast an ugly yellow pall on the still-twitching form.

He let go of Aya in surprise and flipped her gun, handing it back to her butt first. He crouched by the form, staring at it. "...that's because I've never seen one like this."

He studied the thing at his feet with a flair of real fear.

The licker was mutated on the hindquarters, looking muscled in a way that implied it was or would be soon, able to rise up on its hind legs like a dog begging for a treat. Its bulbous brain was bleeding and twitching, but it wasn't above a sightless face...it was above a face with one growing eye. Concerned, Leon studied that one eye. It was white, looked blind and dull as if it were a corpse or a fisheye, and stared straight ahead with no iris.

But it was an eye.

The lickers were mutating. They were evolving. They would soon...be able to see.

Horrified, Leon rose. "Jesus Christ crapping on the Pope."

Aya felt her eyes flare open, "Are we bringing up things that are worse than this?"

Leon shook his head, "They're evolving."

Aya glanced down at the licker and back at his face, "What?"

He gestured, "They're evolving, Aya. If they get sight...if they can track us in the dark and the light..."

He didn't have to go on. The horror of that was beyond words. Aya shook her head, "What would cause it to evolve? Didn't the data say the virus was limited to early mutation?"

Leon shook his head, "I don't know. The only lickers I encountered were in the damn catacombs in Tall Oaks. We didn't have enough tissue samples to run full diagnostics. I don't know how the hell one is here, let alone able to mutate like this. We need to go talk to Rebecca Chambers...and Birkin."

Aya nodded, glancing around the boiler room. "Someone wanted to keep this thing contained in here. Why? Why keep it alive at all?"

He shrugged, glancing around, "To experiment on? I don't know. My concern is that this isn't the only one. In Tall Oaks, the ones I found were pack animals. They lived in colonies. I don't like finding just one...because it makes me hopeful that it's the only one...and I know better than to hope for that."

Aya slid a boot against it to roll it to its back. The licker flopped, boneless, and they looked at its chest. They both stared for a long moment before Leon remarked, "...it has breasts, right? I'm not seeing things here."

Aya glanced at his face, "You usually see tits on things that don't belong there?"

"I'm a guy," He shrugged, "And I'm a few minutes behind a set of blue balls here. So maybe I'm hallucinating them."

Since it was her fault, indirectly, for the blue balls he was experiencing, Aya took pity on him and didn't tease him. She tilted her head, "It's tits. Why? Why the hell does a monster have boobs?"

Leon sighed, shaking his head, "To help its low self-esteem?"

She gave him a narrow look as he added, "Maybe it was feeling less desirable around the other freaks. Maybe it needed a boob job to help it deal with its ugliness. Ugly duckling syndrome?"

Aya rolled her eyes, "You're not funny."

"...I'm a little funny."

"No." But she smirked, "...monsters with tits. I don't get it."

Leon tapped his boot, studying it. "Let's call the BCU clean-up crew and get them out here to bring it in. Maybe taking it apart will help us figure out the why."

He put the call in while they stood over the corpse. It seemed stupid to heavily guard a room with one licker. Who'd done it? Why had they? It was time to see Birkin and ask questions.

It was time to see Klamp and  _demand_  them.

Aya touched one of the forming tits with her toe. The nipple peaked and leaked making them both recoil in disgust. The white liquid was swirled with red as it slid down the naked skinned belly and joined the blood pooling on the floor. "Gross. What the hell?"

With a sound of distress, Leon turned in a circle, swiftly. Concerned, Aya glanced at him. "What? What is it?"

He cursed under his breath and shifted to peek behind the boiler. "Breasts. Mammary glands that release a milky substance. Why would your boobs produce liquid, Aya?"

She shrugged, watching him crouch and look under the boiler. "Infection?"

Leon shook his head as he rose and faced her, "Not just that. Not really. It grew breasts. It leaks from the nipple. Why do mammals do that?"

The horror of it dawned on her. Her hand snapped out to grip his forearm as she gasped, "...oh, god."

"Yeah. Exactly. It grew boobs...to feed it's fucking young."

She knew he was unnerved by it. His language reflected that. He wasn't a man given to dropping the F-bomb like some cops. She started moving around the dark to look with him.

Leon paced the small room, glancing up and down and pushing on stones. "Where's the babies, Aya? Where's the offspring?"

"...I don't know." She looked at the thing on the ground, "What if we're too late? What if they sealed the mother in because they were done with her?"

"Exactly. Because she'd already weened her pups."

"...gross."

"Yeah. Time to clear this place out and sanitize it." He phoned in for aid in an evacuation of the Inn. He called the front desk to get the clerk there to start the process while back up arrived.

He reached into his pocket and pulled free a pack of cigarettes. Surprised, Aya arched her brows. He shrugged as he lit one and the small flame turned his face orange, "No judgment. Sometimes? It's better than running away screaming."

He had a point.

They stood in the swirl of his cigarette smoke, and stared at the horror that meant not only was the virus mutating...something had given it the ability to reproduce.

Leon shook his head, "Wait here for the cleanup crew."

"Why?"

He passed by her toward the stairs, "Something in 304 threw things at us. I want to know why. It wanted us to find that piece and get in here. What could have done that?"

"A ghost?"

He'd quipped that himself up there. Leon shook his head, "Why not? We've seen everything else by this point."

Aya paused and said, "I have an idea. You should stay here. I should go upstairs."

Curious, he cocked his head, "Alright. Why?"

Trusting her instincts, she told him the truth, "Because I could see the parasite in you. In the dark. I could see it."

The thought lit across his face and made him, somehow, more handsome than he'd been just a moment before. Intelligence glistened like a sparkly aura around him. Damnit. Why did he have to be beautiful and smart?

Annoyed, Aya laughed at herself as Leon said, "You want to go upstairs and turn off the lights."

"That's right." Aya shifted past him on the stairs. "Maybe there's something in that room we couldn't see with the lights on."

Leon fell into step beside her as they headed up the side stairs. She arched her brows. "You want to leave a monster unattended down there?"

He lifted his hand to show the founder's emblem in it as he said, "All locked up until help arrives."

"Ah." Aya opened the door to 304 and stepped in. The room was still as they'd left it: pretty and empty. The fireplace was cold and waiting for flames. The walls were soft pastels and paper. The bed was slightly rumpled from where he'd tossed her. Ignoring the warmth in her belly, Aya turned to examine the mantle where the vase had sat.

She gestured with her head, "Could you?"

And he knew she meant to get the lights. So he did, flipping them into darkness again. The moment he did, she covered her normal eye. The other one roved the room, looking for answers. But it didn't find anything but the man beside her.

She stared at the growth in his chest for a long moment. After a drawn-out silence, Leon queried, "Anything?"

And Aya put a finger against his jacket at the breastbone. "Just what's in you. Does it hurt?"

He shook his head, trying to see her in the dark. "Not usually. Sometimes it's like someone squeezing my chest. But usually, it's nothing."

"Hmm." Aya studied the shape like it was a black light inside his frame. "It reminds me of those things in  _Alien_."

Leon stood still as she traced the shape over his coat. "There's nothing they can do?"

He grunted a short response, "No."

Her palm laid flat against his chest, soothingly, "I'm sorry. I really am. How long?"

He shrugged and stepped away from her because the urge to touch her face in the dark and kiss her was painful. "I don't know. Could be days, might be a lifetime. They don't know. The growth has stopped, so what you see is all there is...for now."

"No side effects?"

He shrugged and moved to flip on the lights. "Not yet. The dreaming is the first really besides some indigestion. And that seems to be related to whatever is in you."

"...just me?" So soft.

And he answered, "...just you."

Shit. What did that mean?

Aya stalled him, softly, "Wait. No lights."

"Why?"

She glanced at the mirror above the fireplace. She was lit up like Leon in the dark. Her face was half darkness, half purple shimmer. She studied it for a long moment, searching for anything that might help them. There was a soft shimmer, a flash really, by the nightstand near the bed.

Aya shifted toward it, kneeling. On the floor behind the stand was a small compact like a woman would use to put on makeup. She rose, holding it, and opened the compact in the dark.

The inside was a shattered mirror that reflected her fragmented face back at her. So she said, "Ok. Lights."

He flipped them on and the broken mirror was flecked in blood. Aya looked back at the floor. Among the fibers, tiny flecks of red could be seen leading toward the wall behind the bed. She arched her brows and said, "Leon? Help me shift this bed."

He did, moving the frame with a grunt. The wall was solid - at first glance. But she knocked on it until it rang hollow. Surprised, Leon gave her a look of appreciation.

"Sherlock Holmes."

Aya laughed, lightly, and said, "You got that knife?"

He shrugged and tugged it from the pocket of his jeans. She flipped it open as he said, "Might have licker brains on it."

"I'll live," She used the knife to slice through the hollow part of the wall. It gave easily until she was able to kick the freed portion down with a single swift move...and open a passageway into the next room.

Quietly, Leon mused, "Hot damn."

Aya crouched down and ducked through the opening. He followed her, rising in a room down in a floral chintz pattern that felt very  _Gone with the Wind._ Aya glanced around the empty room and mused, "Lights?"

He moved to flip them off.

The moment he did, she grabbed him. Surprised, he let her jerk him forward - and missed losing his head.

The thing on the wall took another mad swipe as he pushed them both to the floor. She grunted, gasping, and Leon pulled his sidearm as he tucked her against him and dragged her around the bed. Touched that he was trying to protect her, Aya let him.

But she said, "It's ok. I can see it."

In a tone of command, he urged her, "Guide me."

As the thing came for them again, she said, "Behind you - ten o'clock."

He spun. He shot. He was really quick about it. And he didn't miss. Even in the damn dark.

If he wasn't the real Kennedy - he was doing a damn fine impersonation.

The thing squealed. It fell to the floor. Aya instructed, "Six o'clock."

And he shot it again in the pitch black.

It was faster, she thought, to tell him than to pull her own gun. He blasted the scuttling thing back across the floor. It spun, smashing into the far wall. It made a chittering cricket sound as it hit.

And Aya said, "One more - 9 o'clock."

He shot it one last time as it tried to flee. The heavy round sent it rolling head over ass toward the fireplace where it finally was still. The quiet moved around them.

Sometimes silence is louder than words.

Hitting the lights, Leon said, "You're all kinds of useful."

"Me? How the hell did you do that?"

"Practice, kid. And sheer blind luck."

"Blind, my ass. You're like a bat. You have sonar?"

He shook his head, helping her to her feet. "Me? You see like one."

He had a point. It was kinda like that. Like sonar. She could see without seeing. It was on when he hit the switch. The dead thing wasn't a licker. Not really. Not exactly, but kinda. Which was almost as confusing to see as it was to think.

Leon had put a call in already to have the Inn evacuated. Hopefully, they were the last people in the place. Because the thing on the ground wasn't something a businessman from Tulsa needed to encounter while trying to get some ice.

It had the enormous ears of a bat but the sightless face of a licker. It had huge jagged teeth and no arms. It was the size of a small dog, barely bigger than a toddler in stature. But its hoven feet had nasty nails that would likely enjoy the savage fun of clawing you to death.

Aya mused, "A baby?"

"Maybe." Leon glanced around the room. "How'd it get in here?"

"Someone led it through the passage."

"...if it's here..."

They held gazes over its body. They had the same thought: if it was here...it wasn't the only one.

His phone beeped to let him know the area was secure and that the Inn had been evacuated. The containment team was en route to secure the area and prevent the spread of the hostiles.

Leon glanced at Aya and shrugged, "You want to see if we can find any more of these things? The more we take out before the containment team gets here, the better."

His eyes caught sight of a crumpled ball of paper on the floor nearly beneath the bed. Dipping down to pick it up, he queried, "...what's the likelihood this is an old gas receipt or something?"

"...about as likely as getting out of this Inn without some kind of disaster."

As if someone had cued up the music, somewhere in the hotel, someone started screaming. A few seconds after that, they smelled it - acrid, cloying, heavy and thick - smoke. Something was on fire.

What?

It didn't take long to realize it was the world. The world was on fire.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**December 2014–**

**Chapter Eight:**

**The Fires of Hell**

* * *

**5:14 pm - Apple Inn - Room 305**

* * *

"You plan that?" He joked. It seemed a really bad time to panic. He didn't want her to freak out any more than he was. He was good. He was calm. He was panicking inside like a little girl doing a pee-pee dance, but he was calm on the outside.

"Why would I plan a fire?"

It was a good question. Sadly, he'd actually asked dumber ones.

Leon moved to open the door and the second he did, heat-blasted back at them so heavy it was like being slapped with it. The hallway was on fire. Worse than that, it was _blazing._ Leon slammed the door shut and turned to look at her, "I guess it wasn't just my loins a'burnin earlier."

He was something else. She had to appreciate his humor when they were clearly marooned. The good news was that someone thought they were worth killing. Someone was trying to burn down the answers they were finding in this Inn. The closer they got to the truth, the worse the danger became.

Who would have thought burning down the building was a good thing?

Aya whispered, "...we're trapped."

"Not exactly." He shifted toward the window on the room. His hands scooped aside the lace curtain and he glanced out into the foggy sky, "There's a ledge. It's not big, but neither are you."

Aya gave him a blank look, "I know you're not suggesting I go on the ledge and leave you behind."

"You got a better option?"

Not really. No, she didn't. He nodded and kicked the window out from the hip in an impressive show. It shattered, tinkling musically. The heat tried to join the oxygen, rushing up the door of the room in a blaze of glory. And it was suddenly hard to breathe.

Aya let him boost her out the window. The moment she was there, she put her hand through, "Come on. You'll fit. I promise."

The fire was eating the wall behind him. He hesitated and Aya said, "Burn alive or fall to your death, pick one. Quickly."

"...damnit, you're putting my balls to the fire here."

"They will be in a minute if you don't move it."

"Nothing worse than burning nut hair either, kid. I'm just saying."

She laughed, tugging him out the window.

He joined her on the ledge. It was narrow, scary, and high. But it was only three stories so the fall _probably_ wouldn't kill them. It would leave them crippled and possibly bleeding to death on the pavement, but it wouldn't kill them instantly.

More was the pity.

Leon skimmed after her as they moved, heading toward the fire escape near the farthest wall. But there was no hope there. The ledge ran out three rooms down. He said, "Kick the window in. Hurry."

She did and she used her parka over her arm to stop the jagged glass from her cutting her as she cleared it. They went into another room. The heat wasn't as strong here. But it was coming.

It wouldn't take the fire long to eat away the rest of the damn inn.

With a shake of his head, Leon told her, "I sure hope you're ready to trust me, kid. At the moment? It's you and me against the blaze out there."

Aya studied him for a moment and started humming Billy Joel's _We didn't start the fire._

Brows arched, Leon patted her back and blew out a sharp breath, "There's a girl. You ready?"

Was he kidding?

No.

But what choice was there?

Leon shifted toward the door and eased it open, peering into the hallway. He said, softly, "Smokes not bad. But try your best to hold your breath. The Emergency Stairs are right over here. We'll go down them and try to get out of the front."

"Sounds good."

They moved swiftly, hitting the stairs and hurrying down them. The smoke wasn't bad in the stairwell. It was an easy trip until the main floor door stalled as he tried to open it. He reared back and kicked it, twice.

But it held on.

Glancing around, Leon said, "Somethings blocking it. There's no way I can fit through this crack." He paused, he winced, and he said, "...there's a filthy joke in that statement somewhere."

She wasn't sure how he found humor sometimes. It wiggled in her belly as she looked at him. A curious thing to have a parasite that seemed to crave him, a brain that did nothing but respect and revere him, and a belly that just...liked him. She liked him. It was hard not to. He was a likeable guy...that big-time biohazard hero.

Aya shrugged and answered, "I can. Move."

She shed her parka to make herself thinner and wedged herself in the narrow opening. It scraped her breast as she edged through and Leon remarked, "...it's pretty sad to be jealous of a door."

Oh, lord, he was something.

Trying to be solemn, even as her eyes twinkled, Aya intoned, "That's not very professional...sir."

He was still kinda laughing as she emerged into the first-floor hallway.

* * *

**6:25 p.m. Apple Inn- 1st Floor Hallway - West Side**

* * *

Aya realized the moment she was free that there was no hope to move the thing that was on the wall. Someone had knocked over the ice machine and it was sandwiched between the wall and the stairwell. She poked her head through the crack and said, "I can't shift this. Should I come back through?"

"No." Leon met her gaze through the door, "Go to the lobby. I'll backtrack to the second floor and try to get to the fire escape."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Go." He disappeared.

She heard the echo of gunfire the way he'd gone. The answer to whether or not they were alone in the Inn was obvious now. Whatever was here, it wasn't friendly. Was it tiny little monsters?

She hated leaving him but he was a survivor. He'd handle this better than anyone. Right?

Aya hurried down the hallway, smelling the smoke as she ran. There was a bang as the door right before the lobby was thrown wide. A woman stumbled out, gasping. She was wearing a blue top that was torn in streaks like claws had tried to cleave her in half. The Inn wasn't empty. The evacuation wasn't complete.

Damnit.

She grabbed for Aya and went to her knees. Blood poured thick and red down her throat and onto her half exposed breasts. The claws had shredded the skin on her chest, leaving a horrible view into the cartilage and white of bone beneath. If you looked long enough, you could see the lung beyond the muscle breathing.

Aya tried to keep her from falling face first to the floor, but the blood was everywhere. The woman gasped, bleeding all over her as she whispered, "Oh, god...the fire...why? I didn't believe them... Frankie?"

The woman gurgled. She whined softly in her throat. She whimpered and tears spilled down her face.

"I'll get help. I'll get -" But it didn't matter. The woman was dead. Aya laid her gently on the floor.

She left her behind with a tremor of regret as she hurried toward the lobby. She was moving across the lobby when a door opened on the balcony above her. She called, above the rising den, "Leon!?"

"Mom?!" A little face peeped over the railing to look down at her. Young. Maybe eight years old. He had curly red hair and freckles. "I can't find my mom!"

Aya called back, "Are you, Frankie?"

He nodded, "I am! My Mom, she works in the laundry room! She told me to go upstairs to vending and get a snack! She said it was just a fire drill. Have you seen her?"

Yes. She couldn't tell him that. He'd give up. She didn't want him to give up. She wanted him to be brave.

Aya shook her head, "No." A lie was better than the truth right now, "Frankie - can you get down here? We need to get out of the hotel. Maybe your mom is already outside."

Frankie nodded, rising to look around. "I don't know. I can't get through the stairs, they're blocked."

"I know. I cracked it though. So maybe you'll fit now."

"Ok. I'll run back and check." He turned around just as Aya caught sight of the emergency ladder holstered at the edge of the balcony, "Hey! Wait! Frankie!"

He turned back to her and she said, "There's a ladder over there. See if it has an emergency release latch. You can climb right down."

The boy hurried to the far side, shifting the console that controlled the ladder until he could see it. He called down, above the rising sound of fire approaching, "I can't read it! The screen is in Chinese or something!"

Of course, it was.

Useless piece of shit.

Aya called, "Just try looking for anything that might be an emergency lever or a button or a trigger."

Frankie replied, "There's a hole! It's shaped like a square. Should I put my finger in it?"

"No!" Good lord. The idea was horrifying, "No. Just check around for a thing with that shape end."

"Like a crank?"

Smart kid. Aya nodded at him. "Exactly."

A handful of minutes passed before he called to her again, "I can't find anything!"

And they were running out of time. He had to get down. They had to get out. Maybe she could climb up to him?

While she was looking for a way to do that, the door opened on the second-floor balcony again and Leon emerged. He looked dirty and splattered with blood - but unhurt. She wanted to know what he'd faced up there, but she didn't want to scare Frankie. With relief, Aya called, "Leon! That's Frankie! He needs help getting down!"

Without missing a beat, Leon returned, "Like break dancing? I don't think nows the time to teach the boy to dance, Aya."

She rolled her eyes but appreciated the effort. "Can you hold him over? I think I can catch him."

Leon did just that, rolling the boy over the balcony and letting him dangle. Aya braced and caught him as he fell in a pretty impressive drop to one knee. Leon said, "Stronger than you look."

She shook her head, "Hurry. Please."

Leon did an impressive vault over the railing and landed atop the bookshelf beside it. He used that to leap down to the desk in the lobby and land pretty suavely on the carpet. Frankie mused, with stars in his eyes, "Coooool."

It was. It was kinda cool. The eighteen-year girl that lurks inside all women waiting for a "cool" guy, giggled. A little. Aya smashed her down and eyed her _boss_ with calm respect..mostly.

It was a nice superhero moment - until the ceiling shivered above the boy waiting by the exit. Leon shouted as the humor abated, "FRANKIE! DUCK!"

A handful of moments can change your life. Leon pulled his weapon. Frankie tried to duck. Aya went for hers.

And something that might have been a woman once burst through the ceiling in a gush of blood and fire. She dangled, naked and bloody. She had hands like a licker - clawed with nails. She had a body the color of fresh muscle. She had naked breasts barely contained in a ripped and burning white tee shirt and a perfect naked ass - if it wasn't connected to a monstrous set of legs that clawed and clung to the ceiling as she whipped forward. The scraggly mess of her limp black hair dangled around a face with blind eyes above a rotting mouth.

Her tongue shot out as she screamed.

Leon stopped running to aim. Aya dove toward the boy and the monster. Leon shouted, "Frankie! Go flat!"

A handful of moments.

Frankie tried. He did. But the thing grabbed him in her clawed hands and jerked. He screamed. It whipped upward through the ceiling. Aya shouted.

Leon fired and the shot hit the body of the horrible woman.

But she was gone-.

-Gone-.

-Gone into the ceiling with a boy that was still screaming.

The panic would never quite leave. It was coupled with memories of things long before that never quite rested. It was sandwiched in between nightmares and trickles of the subconscious that reminded him he would never, ever, be just a guy in a uniform again.

And sometimes it got you when the timing was the worse.

The boy screamed. With a maniacal laugh, the thing ripped him up through the ceiling while he struggled. Aya tried to leap after them.

And Leon stopped. He went still; listening. Aya shouted at him, "We have to go after, Frankie!"

Leon shook his head. He said, softly, "Be quiet."

Aya, looking panicked, tried again, "Boost me up! Ok? I can fit!"

Leon shook his head again, "I said be quiet, Aya. Be quiet."

She did, watching him with a desperation that was painful. A handful of moments passed as Frankie's screams echoed through the building around them. He tracked them, eyes and ears and training. He followed the line of the ceiling. He waited until the screaming stopped bouncing.

And he shot three times into the ceiling while Aya shouted in horror.

"What if you hit him!?"

The ceiling burst open as an answer. The boy tumbled down through the opening as did the thing that had claimed him. Aya jumped to grab him and the woman slapped her. She slapped her so hard that Aya went to her butt on the ground gripping Frankie's desperate hands.

The tongue slashed forward as Aya jerked at him. Leon shouted, "Aya! DON'T! LET GO OF HIM!"

He fired but the shot only hit the shoulder of the dangling woman and spun her to the side. Aya jerked again as Frankie screamed for help. She jerked - and the tongue wrapped around the boy's hips jerked as well.

There are moments in life when the universe works against us. Desperate to help him, Aya risked herself to free the boy. But the monster made sure she left with nothing.

The tongue looped, the next bullet took the nasty thing between the eyes, but the damage was done.

Frankie was torn in half in a macabre horror movie tableau that would stain the back of the eyes forever. His hips were tossed aside, intestines waving in the smoky air like angry snakes, as blood sprayed wet and horrible around his bisected body. It soaked Aya who froze with his hand still clutched in hers.

It sprayed the dangling body of the dead licker woman as she gurgled her last laugh and went still - only the slow sway of her hair telling the tale of something that had once been a danger. The ensuing silence was horrible. It was awful.

It was thick with horror and loss.

Aya made a small sound of pain.

The fire had finally reached the lobby. There was no time to grieve. Not now. Not here. She stared at the dead eyes of the boy who's upper half she hadn't let go of yet. She called, softly, "...Frankie?"

His chest seized as Leon reached her. He didn't even slow down. He picked her up and around his front like a monkey as he ran. Frankie's torso continued to stare as the door of the Inn was finally hacked open by eager firemen who shouted at them to hurry to safety. Aya curled around Leon, watching the fire slip fingers of flame over the foul remains.

She'd failed him. She'd failed that boy. She'd tried to help - and torn him in half.

The noise of things pulsed like a heartbeat as Leon carried her from the smoky air into the cold night. Boneless, she flopped down in the open ambulance where he took her. She let a pretty paramedic loop a blanket over her bloody and smoke-stained arms.

He shouted orders. He called out warnings. He made sure the rescue team was aware of threats.

She stared, sightless, as the Apple Inn burned bright and horrible into the coming night.

She watched Leon put on a respirator and go back in. He went back in to save lives. He went back in. She did nothing. She was frozen.

She was useless. She wasn't like him. She wasn't a hero. She couldn't save anyone.

The next things happened in flashes. Like Polaroids snapped of the worst moments of her life. The Christmas Eve her sister became a monster. The Christmas Day a monster ripped a little boy in half with her help. The thing in her body. The pain in her chest.

They were all connected.

It was the eve of her own breakdown. Her eyes dragged slowly from building to the face that emerged before hers and with a great _pop_ the sound returned to her once deaf ears, "-fault."

Fault, he said. It was hers. She knew that. The tips of her fingers were cold, but it was winter. It was winter and she'd lost her coat in that burning hotel.

Leon's blood and soot-streaked face gathered her gaze again as he touched her chin and turned her eyes away from her hands, "You hear me?"

Her mouth was numb as she answered, "...it's my fault."

" _No."_ Emphatically. Forcefully. The word had power. She shivered with it. He said it again, "No. It's not your fault. He was dead, Aya, the minute that thing grabbed him. Do you understand that? It was never going to let him live. You did everything you could, everything, and you kept him from being eaten by it. You kept him from turning. So I could kill it and spare anyone else."

Her eyes trembled in their sockets. She shook her head weakly. "I tore him apart. He died torn to pieces."

Leon crouched and her eyes tracked him to where he was slightly below her, "He died instantly. I swear to god it was quick. And it saved him a world of pain when he turned. Listen to me - carefully. Are you listening?"

She nodded, but her eyes drooped with fatigue. "I hear you." But her voice sounded tinny in her own ears.

"This is not your fault."

She shook her head again. "He's dead because of me. We both know that. He's dead. I couldn't save his mother. I couldn't save him. I can't save Helena. I thought I was ready. I left New York City to be a hero. I transferred from the N.Y.P.D. because I wanted to fight monsters. I wanted to make a difference." Her eyes stared at a point over his left shoulder, blindly, "None of it matters. Nothing I do matters."

He rose and turned, calling to the emergency services gathered in the firelight. "Get me what you can from inside that hotel. Save anything you can and get it over for analysis."

He whipped the blanket off her shoulders. He took off his leather coat and tucked it close around her. She let him, staring blankly ahead. The shock would do that, he mused, it would make you...a zombie.

Kevin came to join them in the flickering orange glow. "Boss? We were trapped on the back side of town when the call came. What the hell happened?!"

Leon gestured with his head, "Start the clean up as soon as the fires down, do what you can to secure anything worth saving in that building."

Kevin looked at Aya with sympathy, "It always sucks the first time we face the monsters and survive. It's even harder when you lose someone doing it." Kevin crouched beside her and added, softly, "There were no other bodies, Aya. But the mother and her son. The rest of the building was empty so far. Sometimes? We do the best we can and save who we can. You did everything you could in there. This pain? It hurts because you care."

She met his gaze and Kevin added, "It gets better. Not easier, but better."

Aya shook her head. Handsome, she thought dully, he was nearly as handsome as Leon in his own way. The jaw was strong, the nose slanted nicely over a full-lipped mouth, handsome. And a better choice. He wasn't her boss. He was a better choice.

She knew he was interested. He'd flirted the few times they'd met. He was a safe choice. She could ask him out. They'd date and get along. They'd laugh and live and he probably wouldn't leave her at the altar.

He wasn't her boss with a parasite in his chest that might be a monster.

And she felt _nothing_ when she looked at him.

Kevin rose and patted her knee. Leon told him, softly, "Shock."

"Yeah. She shouldn't be alone." Kevin gave him a meaningful glance. "Bo and I...we got this. Take her home."

With a nod, Leon plucked her up and she let him, laying like a doll in his arms. He carried her to the SUV and poked her inside. The warm interior silenced the noise of fire and death and horror. Fire.

Her world was on fire.

When did it stop burning?

She closed her eyes against the pain of it.

Kevin watched the SUV pull away in the flicker of firelight stained the sky red and white. Leon had asked him to keep them apart - but right now? He was exactly what that girl needed to survive.

* * *

**8:17 p.m. - Kennedy Residence- Abandoned Farm Stead 15 miles outside of Raccoon City**

* * *

As the SUV rolled down the road, Leon glanced at her as he drove. She was quiet, eyes closed, head leaning on the cold window. His coat dwarfed her. It made her seem small and soft.

But she wasn't.

She'd fought with him back there. She'd panicked in the end, but they all did. Everyone did that first time. It was normal. Hadn't he? The moment he'd entered Amparo with Krauser and seen what waited there?

Hadn't he panicked?

His life had been so simple before that. A few years in the military. An offer of training in a covert branch. A young boy that was eagerly looking to make his name in the world.

He'd had no idea what he'd find there.

The village of the damned. The things that took root and never ended. They haunted him now as he drove. A world of horror. A resonance of evil that left you staring into the abyss without a way back.

What if he could spare her from it?

Would he?

She'd chosen, like him, to battle the darkness that they still couldn't defeat. She'd chosen to pick up a shield and stand between horrors worse than a man could imagine. She'd chosen to fight what had no name.

Was it his place to stop her?

That fight had a price. Sometimes it was blood. Sometimes it was skin. Sometimes it was sleep. And sometimes it was life. Deciding to pay it had to be her choice. It had to.

He carried her up the stairs to his front door and let them both in. He'd chosen to buy a place on ten acres outside of Raccoon. He'd chosen that to put distance between himself and the world that haunted him. Without neighbors or friends or relationships, he was cut off and safe from losing anything that mattered.

A recluse never had anyone worth torturing.

The small house was spartan and a single bedroom. A former barn converted to a bachelor pad. It came with a couple goats and a chicken house with hens for fresh eggs. The simple yellow clapboard and fading gray roof suited him just fine.

Nothing fancy. Nothing outlandish. Nothing that drew attention.

A recluse had nothing worth stealing.

Quietly, she whispered, "Did you find anyone else while you were upstairs?"

Leon shook his head, "Just ugly licker babies."

She made a small sound, "A nest right? It was a nest."

"...I think so, yeah."

"Why? Why would someone do that? Why would anyone do that to innocent people? I don't understand that kind of evil."

Leon carried her into his bedroom and laid her on the soft mattress. It was the only thing he did own worth keeping in the small bedroom. It comforted with big downy blankets in green goose feathers. The color always reminded him of grass on the hills of Ireland at dawn.

"Evil doesn't always make sense, Aya. It doesn't have to. It exists. It destroys. And you can't always stop it."

Her face crumpled a little as she answered on a shaky breath, "So why do we try? What good does it do?"

Leon gave her a gentle smile, "Because sometimes we can."

Aya nodded, absorbing that. "...right. Right. The fights that need fighting, right?"

"You got it. Take a minute and reboot, Aya." She closed her eyes before he finished speaking. She seemed to be sleeping again.

He started to leave her and she reached for him, making a small sound. Apparently, she wasn't asleep after all.

He said, "...alright. A bath then."

And he carried her into the bathroom instead. A claw foot tub. Paint the color of a farmhouse as red as the summer sun. And fixtures likely as old as the barn itself. Things creaked in this house when you turned them on, but it was comforting. Old pipes that groaned to life brought him some kind of peace that he didn't even understand. A time of happiness that his brain tried to tell him existed beyond the misery of his old man. A time when he'd played and been free and washed his hands in the creaky spray of an old well.

Grandparents. He'd had them.

He mourned them.

And the peace and sheer joy that having them had meant.

Leon set her softly on the closed toilet and moved to turn on the tub. It groaned, appealingly, and spilled hot water down onto the heavy porcelain. He glanced over at her as he rose, considering her bloody face.

She said, softly, "A bath? Won't I just soak in my own blood?"

She had a point. So he circled the curtain and turned on the shower instead for her. It struck, a comforting hammer of water and promise of cleanliness, as he turned back to her. "You need help?"

Aya laughed, without humor, "I'm not an invalid."

He gave her a cool look and said, "I know that. I'm asking if you need help, not saying you do."

She shook her head and offered him his coat back. "Thank you. For everything. I just...need a minute."

"Sure." Leon took the jacket and watched her from the door for a moment, "I'll find you something to wear and fix you something to eat. Toss your clothes over there, I'll throw them out."

She nodded, sticking her hands under her top and tugging. Her naked back looked so clean with the bloody top gone. No bra. But she didn't need one. She had small enough breasts that bras were optional for her.

He closed the door as she started to shed her jeans.

The soft woof from the kitchen told him his dog needed to go out. His dog, his only real friend, a leftover white ball of fluff from a girlfriend that was better a memory. The dog was the best and only thing he'd gotten out of that bad relationship. It was a girl's dog, sure, a Pomeranian that was more poof than mutt. He'd named it Dante because it had survived living in Hell with that long gone bitch. She'd wanted a boyfriend that followed her like the dog - neither he nor Dante was the type. It wasn't their style to follow the ladies.

He let Dante out to do his business in the yard and back in to chew his bone on his bed.

Fatigue circled behind his eyes as he hung up his jacket and shed his own blood flecked tee. He sponged off in the kitchen at the sink while she showered. He splashed cold water on his face and shot his hands back through his hair. His reflection looked haggard in the window over the sink.

Aloud, he said, "...you couldn't save him."

Because the guilt had teeth in his throat.

But the truth was cold comfort.

He was still the guy who grieved every life he couldn't save. He was still the guy who lost a piece every time he lost a survivor. He didn't know how to just let it go an move on.

He wished like hell he was built that way.

But the pain made a nest in his belly and hatched pain all through his chest.

The plagas wasn't the only parasite inside of him - regret fused to his soul and never let go.

The shaky sound of his breathing had Dante padding over to sit by his foot. He glanced down at the dog and wondered, "She thinks I might be the devil, ya know?"

Dante woofed softly. Leon laughed and it hitched, irritating him. He refused to cry. Aloud, he told the dog, "I know...devil's don't cry, right pal? What does she know? Give me five."

He put his hand down for the dog to shake.

Leon turned from the window and moved down the hallway toward his bedroom. He passed through a living room that was little more than a beige couch with a bohemian quilt tossed over it that his grandmother had knitted for him as a boy and an old grand piano. There was no television. There was nothing else but a stack of books on the empty floor.

He wasn't a man inclined to watch television. There simply wasn't anything in the world that could compete with the truth. He'd seen it all, he didn't need horror movies to remind him.

He was passing by the bathroom when he heard the sounds of soft grieving.

It was crazy to say it, but the pain was _good._ It was right. Grieving, hurting, healing - these were the trifecta of recovery. She had to _feel_ it, to really let it go.

He put his hand flat to the door, listening. He'd never understand why he didn't just keep walking. Maybe it was the thing inside of him. Maybe it was how he was starting to feel about _her._ Maybe it was both.

It felt like stepping through the castle doors in Spain to face the unknown. A stupid thing. A dumb thing. To be afraid of a girl barely big enough to reach his shoulder.

And he'd never been more afraid of anything in his life.

Under it all, he was a coward. Because the want in his goddamn bones for her was like a plague. It festered beside the regret, the fear, and the foreboding and made him feel like he might implode and immolate like all those who'd died in the park.

Would it help to throw her down and take her?

Would it tighten the noose more?

Would it kill them both?

How did he comfort her when touching her might leave them both dead on the bathroom floor?

There was some fear he just didn't know how to face, but it had never stopped him before. He'd be damned if it stopped him now. He'd had no one to comfort him the first time he'd lost someone to a monster. No one. He'd drank alone in a hotel room feeling like he'd never get over the trauma of it.

At the bottom of a mix of madness that was his feelings about her, there was the truth that he was her boss. He was her leader. He had to help her cope with things like this. Because it wasn't the last time she'd face the fight and lose.

He might have kept walking and saved them both the landmine of whatever it was that linked them if it wasn't for that simple truth. She needed him. And he'd never run from someone in need. Ever.

He couldn't do it now.

He probably should turn tail and not look back, but that just wasn't his style. So he opened the door and went into the bathroom.

* * *

**8:17 p.m. Outside the Apple Inn - Lower Clyde Street Convenience Stand**

* * *

Kevin waited while the man behind the counter offered back his cigarettes and change. Behind him, the sizzling end of a long day wafted curls of smoke into the dreary sky. An ugly rain peppered his face as he lit up, casting his tired countenance in a flash of orange flame.

The Apple Inn was finally contained. The flames were fought by men who weren't paid nearly enough for their bravery. The death toll was minimal - the woman, the boy, and two more people hiding out in a bathroom on the lower level who'd perished in the blaze. All in all, it could have been a lot worse.

With a tired hand rubbing the back of his neck, Kevin inhaled the acrid smoke and watched Rebecca process samples from the dead. She caught him looking, winked, and gestured to her watch. Right. They had a thing scheduled.

He was really hoping she'd want to just go take a nap somewhere.

He started to move over to suggest it and a soft voice called, "Detective Ryman?"

Curious, he turned around to seek out the speaker. The red shoes were a pop of color beneath the camel beige trench coat and attached to gorgeous legs. She offered him a file folder. She wore sunglasses at night. The face beneath the perfectly coiffed coal black hair looked beautiful.

Kevin glanced at the file and back at the face, "I'm sorry. Have we met?"

"Not officially." She shifted and shrugged, "I'm a friend to the force, I promise you. In that file folder, you're gonna find information on Helena Harper. I suggest you read it and take another look at her companion in a coma."

Curious, Kevin took the folder and opened it. A glossy photo of Helena was on top. She was sitting across the table from a familiar man in a black suit. Like the woman in the trench coat, he wore sunglasses to obscure his eyes. Standing beside him was the former national security advisor, Derek Simmons.

"...who the h-" But she was gone.

He glanced around, blinking. Was she even real?

The file was real.

The information would likely be as well.

But who was the woman? Who was the man in the glasses? And what did Helena have to do with them? Her connection to Simmons was documented. She'd been cleared of coercion and collusion charges.

Was the woman saying that Tall Oaks wasn't the end of that?

More questions. Kevin shook his head and inhaled another puff of his cigarette. At some point, he was going to expect someone to start coughing up some answers.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** _Plot building is sometimes a matter of taking a shower...or maybe that's just in Parasite Eve. Just building the love story and back story here. Comparatively slower on the mystery, but that'll pick back up next round._

* * *

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**December 2014–**

**Chapter Nine:**

**The Pain of Denial**

* * *

**8:46 p.m. - Kennedy Residence- Bathroom**

* * *

The shower curtain was sheer enough Leon could visualize Aya hunched at the shoulders with her face in her hands. The silhouette of her body was misty and foggy behind the white vinyl. He could see nothing and could imagine everything. Like a siren in the sea, she tempted but never quite offered.

He yearned, a little, and that wasn't his style at all.

But nothing he felt was relevant in this moment.

The pain was what mattered. She was hurting, but she needed to break to heal. She needed to cry. Instead, she huddled in the water like an open wound, throbbing, and festering.

He wanted to tuck tail and run. He knew what happened if he faced her. He knew. A coward at the core, he wasn't really the type of guy to deal directly with his own feelings, let alone others. But he'd agreed to lead a team. He'd taken a command position. Sometimes that meant dealing with your own neuroses and taking one for the team.

In his head, he intoned: _She's suffering. She's suffering._

And his dick said: _She's naked. She's naked. She's naked._

It was hell, sometimes, being a guy. It was why he was leaving his damn pants _on._

Leon shifted and slid the shower curtain aside to face her. She turned her face away and held a hand out like she'd block him like he wouldn't be able to see her. Hiding. She was hiding in her hand as she shrunk inward, heaving hard and painful breaths.

"...please."

He understood the please. She didn't want a witness to her shame. She didn't want a witness to her regret. She didn't want him to see her at the lowest point she'd likely ever been. Her sister, her fear of what was in here, her loss of a boy she'd tried to save...and the death. So much death. It slid around them like shadows and ghosts, haunting, and leaving nothing but hollow hurt behind.

But he slid into the shower behind her anyway. His hands wrapped over her forearms, he tucked her arms against her own sternum and pulled her flush against him. Her back slid against his naked chest as he hugged her.

Just a hug. Just a moment.

They all needed one sometimes.

She was small enough she tucked against him and fit even as she tried to resist. She didn't want the sympathy. She didn't want the pity. But it didn't matter.

He kept asking himself what was important enough to impact his world.

This mattered.

 _She_ mattered.

He just didn't know what that meant.

His forehead pressed against the curve of her neck and shoulder. She shook her head, trying to deny him, and breathed, "...don't. Please? Please don't."

He kept holding her, compressing her central nervous system to calm her down, and proving that hugs - literally- could save you when you were hurting.

And he answered, gruffly, "...Sherry Birkin was twelve years old the first time I met her..." Aya stilled, slumping against him. Her head leaned over to rest against his cheek as she listened. "She was young. Sweet. A kid really, just a kid, with nothing to lose. Tall Oaks...it was this adorable little town. Perfect. Special. Umbrella put so much money into it. It was their showpiece. She grew up in the heart of it. A happy little girl. She used to play at this orphanage with the homeless kids waiting to be adopted. The Birkins were like...the Waynes to Tall Oaks. They donated time and money, they were philanthropists and well loved. Sherry was such a beautiful girl, kind and generous. She was the first one to see..." He trailed off and tried again.

He turned his cheek to rest it more fully on her head, "I was young. A rookie. A fresh-faced wet behind the ears kid. I spent one day on the force, Aya. One. Because the first day I served as a rookie, I had to ride with SWAT on an all hands on deck. It was the orphanage. A place filled with children. Sherry walked in on...what was happening there. She...she was never the same. It shaped her. Defined her. Drove her. It was an outbreak, only we didn't know it then. It was horrible. Children had turned and eaten each other. Children had mutated and exploded like blood and meat filled balloons. I had to put down babies and kids and I just -" His voice broke.

The moment trembled with it.

Her eyes opened. She looked up at his face. His were closed, tight, and the water had beaded on those eyelashes. Pretty, she thought, he was so pretty. Even in grief, he was pretty.

And it still hurt him. It was years and years ago. And it still hurt him.

His body, objectively, was nearly as incredible as his face. His arms were capped in muscle that was bunched just from holding her. He was a man who took care of his body to fight his war.

He was a man who still hurt over kids he couldn't save.

She pressed a kiss beside his ear and comforted, "I don't know how anyone could. It's not your fault."

She was something else. In the midst of her own grief, she couldn't abide his. His grief _hurt_ her like it hurt him. Leon opened his eyes to hold hers.

He cleared his throat and tried again, "-I couldn't. I couldn't do it. I turned in my badge. I quit. One day on the force." He gave her a rueful smile, sheepish, and real, "There's nothing wrong with breaking. We do it. We all do it. It's _human._ And _real."_

Aya licked her lips, and her voice was hoarse as she whispered, "What did you do after that? Where did you go?"

"At first," He took a deep breath, "I went into private security for a short while, but protecting simpering actresses just wasn't my thing. So, I joined the military. I pushed myself to become an Army Ranger. I went out for it as a newbie, a private first class. I did pretty well. I was still green and young when Jack Krauser recommended me for black ops training. I tested higher than any candidate in a decade on my assessments. My first handler told me I was - _born to bleed black._ I guess that meant I was made for covert operations."

Aya nodded, watching his face. "I didn't know you were friends with Jack Krauser. I learned about Krauser when I was in bounty hunting on the side. It suited you?"

He shrugged a shoulder, looking down at her, "It was something where I was killing bad guys. Big guys. Guys that made babies into weapons. It gave me someone to take the rage out on. And someone to blame."

Aya licked her lips again, clearing her throat, "I'm not a baby here. I was with the N.Y.P.D. I saw...I did...I cleared leather. I was a great cop. You don't get to be one without drawing down on someone..." She trailed off and her voice trembled, "I wanted to help. To stop monsters like some kind of storybook hero...but I don't know if I can do this. How do I know if I can do this?"

Leon volleyed his eyes over her face and crooked a half smile at her, "I studied everyone's evaluations before I assembled this team. I had you tested for everything from blackmail to bomb threats. I made it impossible for almost anyone to join my squad. Do you know why?"

She shook her head, waiting. He returned, "Because you can't even begin to know what we'll come up against. You can't know. You can't even imagine. But all you can do, all you can do, Aya, is keep going. Because if you quit, if you fall down and give up, those things that you wanted to fight? They keep on coming. They don't stop. They'll kill you and come for your family, your friends, and your soul. You were made for this. Like me, sometimes we just...we just have to accept that we lose a part of ourselves to fight a war we might never win."

Her lips trembled. Her eyes teared. And she asked the question he'd asked himself that first time he'd stood surrounded by the undead, "How did you know I could do it?"

He watched her face as he answered, "The way I knew _I_ could do it. Bravery. It's not facing something you know you can beat, Aya. It's facing the things that will probably kill you. Why? Because you lost an eye to save a little girl. You lost a fiance and never stopped looking. And you tried to pull a little boy to safety when we both know it would have cost you your life. You could have run. You could have hidden. You didn't. You stood, you fought, and you lost."

Her face finally broke. It completely collapsed as she felt tears slide down her cheeks. "I tried. I swear to god I tried."

"I know you did."His voice was calm, strong, and supportive. No pity, she thought wildly, just truth, "Sometimes, Aya, strength isn't about winning...it's about losing, and getting right back up."

"...I'll get up in a minute. I just-I'll get up in a minute. Ok?"

Quietly, he affirmed, "Yeah...ok. I'm right here."

She tucked her face against his neck as she fell apart. The first painful sob hunched her body in his arms, but he held on. She gasped, desperately, "...his blood was all over me."

And he answered, "But it's not on your hands. It's not on you, Aya. It's not your fault."

Heaving out broken sobs, she mourned, "It's all over me. All over me. I killed that boy."

She disintegrated, collapsing against him until he literally held her up to let her grieve. When she let him, he turned her around against him.

She covered her face with those hands but she sank against his front, accepting it. Accepting him. Accepting the loss.

It wasn't healing, but it was a start.

He figured he should be knighted for keeping his hands to himself. He simply cupped his hands over the back of her neck and let her grieve.

When the weeping slowed, she lifted her head. The tips of her breasts skimmed his chest. She had bigger breasts than he'd given her credit for. They were small, that was true, but they were full. The pretty pink tips were peaked, from crying surely, and maybe the heat.

She was grieving. And it was time for him to leave her to it. He simply wasn't magnanimous enough to leave her alone if he didn't. And he wouldn't take advantage of her.

Now or ever.

It wasn't who he was. It wasn't his style. What was his style anyway? Surviving. The rest? He made it up as he went along.

Quietly, Leon said, "You'll be alright."

She would be. She believed that. Because of him. Because of what it meant that he was here, helping her, guiding her. She'd wanted to join his task force to learn from him. She hadn't known, at first, that he'd be leading it. But she'd known it was someone who'd train her to be the best monster hunter in the world.

Well, maybe the best monster hunter in New York.

She knew the situation was awful. It was bad. But she'd joined to glean knowledge off the best. She needed to stop wallowing in her misery and learn. She needed to find her steel under her suffering and grow to be strong.

Helena was counting on her.

It was time to get out of the shower and find a cure for her.

But her hands touched the scar at his shoulder anyway. Softly, he said, "...bullet. I made a mistake of jumping in front of the wrong woman."

Her eyes lifted to his face as her fingers grazed the wound. Old. Pale. Healed. But maybe not. Aya scanned his features and murmured, "...the woman in red."

Not a question. She wasn't asking. In a handful of seconds, she pegged him where everyone in his life had missed all these years. He nodded, watching her face, "In Tall Oaks...when I was pretty sure she wasn't even one of the good guys anymore. Stupid. She's like a part of me I can't let go of."

Aya nodded, stroking her fingers over the wound. They brushed, sweetly, against his nipple. It puckered against the pads of her fingers as she said, "My fiance? His name was Kyle Madigan. You've heard the stories, I'm sure. He just...disappeared...I don't know how to say goodbye."

Leon nodded, stroking his eyes over her wet face beneath that shaggy unkempt hair that was as wild and beautiful as she was. And he answered, "That's why I picked you. You're like me...you never let go."

She traced along the cluster of scars below his nipple. It looked like scattershot. Buckshot? What had done it? She didn't ask. Aya whispered, "I didn't know scars could be beautiful."

He ignored that. Or avoided it. Or redirected it. But he felt it. It shivered in his guts. He said, softly, "The plagas allowed for higher cognitive function. One of the villagers...had a chainsaw."

Her eyes turned up to his - huge and wide- horrified.

Leon shrugged his shoulder, gently, "He didn't use it on me. He knocked me down and I blew his face away into hamburger from the ground...when he fell? The teeth on the chainsaw drove into my side..."

She slid her fingers against those scars. "You kept going?"

So, so, softly, he told her, "...you always keep going, Aya. Always. It's a bandaid on a bullet wound...but you survive."

Her hand slid against his chest and the beat of his heart. Under it, a parasite was bonding to his body. In her, something else was growing. It was the wrong time, the wrong moment, the wrong want - and it beat between them like the heat of the shower.

His thumb stroked the rough raised scar at her collarbone. She breathed, "Crackhead trying to rob a lady with kids."

"You get him?"

Her fingers followed a burn scar at his right hip flexor just above the waistband of his jeans. "...yeah. He got me once and ran. Bo shot him twice before he cleared the alley."

"...good." His hand slid over the slope of her right breast, just above the nipple, to the shiny pink scar in the shape of a half moon.

Breathless, she told him, "...chain link fence caught me jumping over it in pursuit of a perp."

"Yeah?" His voice was hoarse. Her fingers skimmed over his belly and he sucked it in as if she'd tickled him.

Aya murmured, "...yeah." His slick digits cruised over her nipple and left her breathless. She almost bowed into the touch before he dropped his forehead to hers to stop her. A butterfly touch that was fleeting, it left them both trembling as he trailed his hand down her torso and found the tiny little ring through her belly button.

She was trying to kill him.

But at least the nearly cloying desire was easing back the pain in this heat.

Her fingers touched the lump of scars above his navel and he murmured, "They went in laparoscopically at first to try to remove the plagas...but there's no removing it...its just...part of me."

"Does it hurt?"

Lord. Did she mean his throbbing erection? No. She was talking about the scars.

"...sometimes."

Her face eased up until their lips brushed as she spoke, "Pain has limits. You bleed, you hurt, you heal. But I don't..." She shook her head, shaking a little against the regret and the loss...and the need. A heady mix of feelings that made her want to run screaming and put her tongue in his mouth and her hand in his pants. She knew in her bones that fucking him here and now would take away the pain.

And leave nothing but regret behind.

So she lowered her face again to keep their lips from sealing together. "...I don't know if I can heal this. How do I heal this? It's inside of me." The moment trembled.

The boy? Or the mutation? Both, maybe. She carried pain in her like poison.

Leon murmured, "When it seems bad...just remember what we do..it matters..." Their hands trailed together. Her fingers slid against his ribs and the knife wound left there by Krauser in Amparo. It touched the one on his cheek Krauser had given him in Spain. And he added, softly, "...right?"

None of it was right.

And she wasn't sure she cared anymore.

Her fingers slid north, stroking along the wolf tattoo that spread across his right arm in a half sleeve and hooked over the top of his pec. A beautiful thing, Celtic in design- a clear homage to the Kennedy in his name that was as Irish as the wild blue of his eyes- and a symbol older than time. Aya traced the curve of the great shaggy head, the slope of the strong jaw - the wolf wasn't roaring, but that didn't surprise her at all. He wasn't the type that roared, this man, he was the type that stalked, quietly, killed, swiftly, and left blood on the snow as the only evidence that he'd been there.

The moon hooked over his collarbone, offering the wolf guidance in the dark while it hunted. A curious thing, Aya thought as she traced it with her nail, to put something so primal on your skin where no would often saw it. A personal thing. And proof of depth that most people wouldn't attribute to him. The wolf was a solitary hunter - and the great protector of a pack. A very mirrored thing that encompassed dual sides of human nature - and offered a glimpse into the animal that rested beneath all the calm facade that the world could see.

This wolf, she observed, rested calmly on its hindquarters, waiting, watching, and protecting beneath the light of the moon. It was a beautiful tattoo on a canvas covered in scars. Somehow, the scars highlighted it, made it more, better. The scars created a prolific story on his skin that she couldn't stop reading.

Quietly, he mused, "The body doesn't match the face anymore."

Surprised, Aya looked up at him. It was a good face, there was no getting around that, and with the hair peeled back leaving it stark and unadorned, it was a breathtaking one. But it was a lie. Like the facade of human nature, it hid what really mattered beneath it.

She answered finally, after a trembling moment, "The face is a ruse. It's meant to distract you from what matters."

His head tilted, watching her, "And what matters?"

She laid her palm against his chest, over the wolf, over the thing beneath the skin that threatened to kill him, over the heart that beat slow and thick above it. "This matters. The face is pretty packaging. It's superficial. It might not always last. But this?" She shook her head, "This is what makes a hero."

Damnit.

He didn't want to feel like this about her.

What was this?

It was real, whatever it was. It wasn't just parasites and poisons and pain. It was real. If he stayed here, in this shower with her, it would end with him inside her. And that would complicate things in ways he couldn't even begin to understand.

He murmured, almost trying to convince them both, "I''m not a hero, Aya...just a guy who didn't give up."

Without missing a beat, Aya answered, "Sometimes? It's one in the same."

Leon shifted his hands to her face. He tilted it up to him. They swept the shaggy wet hair back from her to see the angles of her jaw, to see the tilt of her eyes. Elfin - it was the word that resonated when you looked at her. She was so complicatedly beautiful. A hodgepodge of features from places that left her the perfect patchwork of mixed heritage.

He confessed, surprising himself, "On the mission to find Ashley Graham, I was outnumbered and without back up."

Aya nodded, watching him, "I know. I read the Kennedy Report. Hell, it was taught at the Academy like the gospel. I used to fall asleep at night listening to your voice. I don't think any of us had a clue what face it went with though. I might have done more than listen."

Charmed, he laughed and admitted, "It was dumb luck. And help in places I didn't expect. The wolf saved my life in Spain. I was screwed. It was hopeless. The wolf leaped into a pit to protect me, to give me time to gather myself and fight back. I felt like a tribute was the least I could do."

Aya lifted her mouth in a soft smile, "Why?"

His brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"

She slid her hands up his wrists to hold them where he held her face. "Why? That's not the whole story."

Leon felt his mouth twitch, just a little, and answered, "...it was caught...in a bear trap. I set it free."

Of course, he did. In the middle of dangerous hostile territory, exposed, alone...and he'd taken the time to free a potentially dangerous wild animal from a trap. He was so fucking humble. He was... _good._ Good. In the way, you didn't expect from a man who'd survived such evil in his life. He was good. He still believed that some things were worth saving.

It was why he was destined to be a legend.

She wanted to put her mouth on the wolf and taste it on his skin. Was it her? Was it the thing in her? She didn't know. He added, "When I got to Tall Oaks and they handed me control of Adam's personal protection, Helena saw the tattoo in the locker room one day. She said it fit me, the wolf. She said she'd never met anyone more like one. I lived among the people, but I wasn't one of them. A loner. I told her maybe that's why I make everyone around me howl with laughter."

She shook her head, amused despite herself. Softly, she murmured, "Who are you? A badass. A comedian. A kind soul. A mystery."

His thumbs stroked her cheeks and he replied, "I'm just a guy who made a choice to fight, Aya. Just a guy. I just happen to be good at it."

Humble.

Of course, he was.

Because he was good, sure, and he was _perfect._

She took his hand at the wrist. She turned in the water to show him her back again. And she slid his hand over her left hip. The wolf was emblazoned there - small and almost dainty. It rested placidly in repose, gazing from where its head rested on its paws up at the sky. His thumb stroked it as the shimmer of something scary worked through his belly.

Aya said, quietly, "When I was eight years old, I got separated from my mother and sister on a camping trip in _Aokigahara_ ," She turned her head over her shoulder to look at him. He was stroking her tattoo with a look on his face like he'd seen a ghost. So she went on, "They call it the suicide forest. It's where people go to find...peace, I guess. But those who live there know it's one of the densest forests in the world; so thick with foliage that it's known as the Sea of Trees."

His fingers slid over the hip beside the tattoo. They cupped around to her belly and splayed against her enough to tug her back against him. Aya went, willingly, and let him hold her. The wet denim of his jeans was cold against her butt as she spoke again, "I'll never know what it was that had me wander away from her. Curiosity? Connection? It was something. But I was drawn out into the forest. I kept going until I couldn't hear her call for me anymore."

She rolled her head to the side and leaned her cheek against his chest. Her arms were crossed over her breasts, a defensive stance that she wasn't even aware of, and his other one covered them, holding her. She closed her eyes, remembering, "I was lost in the woods for three days. I should have died. I should have been killed by something...but I was never alone."

Quietly, he filled the silence after she stopped talking, "The wolf."

She nodded, laughing softly, "She was soft and white. She had cubs with her. She should have killed me when she found me playing with them...she didn't. She considered me, in that neutral way that wolves have...that way that says - fight, and I'll kill you...or submit, and I'll let you live. She should have killed me...but she just...protected me. She showed me where plants were that I could eat. She let me sleep in their cave with them. She was just...maternal."

Leon nodded, holding her, "It's not unheard of. Animals...they don't always differentiate between one species and another when it comes to children. Sometimes, a cub is just a cub."

Aya nodded, listening to the water and remembering, "Wolves are so very neutral and so very loyal. That one saved my life until my family found me."

There were so many things that bound them. There were things that she knew still waited for them to discover. There were things they needed to discover, now, soon, to stop what was happening. To do that, they had to stop standing in this shower sharing their life stories.

There was no time for romance in a world gone wrong.

Aya said, softly, "I need you to teach me...everything. Anything. I need you to teach me about the things we're facing. If I have to go through them to save my sister, I will."

Like a wolf, Leon thought, loyal and protective. And Aya finished, "I won't break again, I promise."

He shook his head and turned her to face him. His hands circled her wrists where they were gathered beneath her chin to shield her breasts. With feeling, he replied, "You have to break to build something stronger, Aya. I can help you. I'll teach you what I can. But this? What's happening? With us? With these people? It's not something I've ever seen before. Every time might be like that. That's what this task force is...facing things without answers."

Her eyes roved his face. She felt like, here, now, they had to put it all out there to make this work.

So, she said, "Whatever is in me wants you."

He nodded, looking solemn, "Yeah. We both know that. And it's the same for me."

She nodded back, scanning his face, "But it's not just what's in me."

She watched his jaw flex - twice. So she added, "It's me too. _I_ want you. Your face, your body, your laughter...it's been a long time since I felt this way about someone. If you put your hand on me now, I'd be wet -and it's not the shower. It's you. And being near you. You move me."

Holy hell she was going to send him an early grave talking like that. Something slapped at his throat that felt vaguely like craving.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, but he didn't say a word. The backs of his knuckles brushed against her mound, so light, so very light - a tease, a whisper, and a retreat. He closed his eyes like he was channeling strength to do it.

Aya finished, "I wish you didn't. This can't end well, Leon."

Oh, it could. It could end well on the floor and against the wall and with her sitting on his face. But it would likely destroy them both. Leon was fairly sure he was going to be knighted for sliding his hand away from the promised land.

Into the rushing water filled pregnant air, he finally informed her, "It's good, really, really good..that I'm wearing jeans. Why the hell do you think I kept them on?"

Her mouth went dry as she laughed, painfully, "I know. You're a saint."

And now he laughed too, shaking his head, "I'm not. I swear to god, I'm no saint. But this is messy. It's complicated. And it won't help either of us to indulge in it."

Maturity - sometimes it was a hard pill to swallow.

Softly, she queried, "...are you sure?"

And he groaned, turning her away from him, "...no."

She leaned back against him and his hand slid down her belly. He palmed her groin and the motion rolled her hips and butt against the wet denim of his. Her hand slid around to grip his hip and help him.

He was either going to go to hell or heaven, he thought madly because he didn't finish. He didn't finger her until she came and then fuck her stupid. He didn't do anything but feel how wet she was. She'd said she was wet for him. She was.

Damnit.

Aya moaned in throat and rolled her head to the side like he should...what? Kiss her? He _wanted_ to kiss her. But he wouldn't stop. He wasn't that much of a damn saint. Are you sure? She'd asked. No. No, he wasn't.

However? He was a coward.

But she trembled in his arms and whispered, "We could lose ourselves in each other. Maybe its what makes the pain go away. Maybe complicated is good."

His other hand slid up the back of her neck and gripped a handful of hair. It turned her head toward him. He licked her mouth. She nipped at his. She was right. Fucking her would make them both forget. It would do the job - for a moment. For a second. Before they were tossed back into the tempestuous truth that would poison the passion they found.

It wasn't an answer. For her, it would be like a junkie getting high to escape the pain of living. It might make things bearable in that moment, but the high would end and leave them both spent and regretting. He wanted her...but not like this. Not with grief between them like poison. And being inside her might kill them both.

He _wanted_ her...but not enough to risk losing her.

So he didn't even kiss her. He whispered, "Shhh. Stop talking. You gotta stop talking now." She tried to moan again and encourage that hand on her. But even that hand didn't grope. It just...cupped. He just cupped her. He didn't put his fingers inside her. Nope. Saint Kennedy - the patron saint of cucks and idiots.

He deserved to be knighted. Somewhere the Queen was getting ready to make him Sir after all. Sir Kennedy - eunuch of the city of Raccoon. Turning down eager, beautiful, desperate things in the shower because he respected them too much to take advantage.

It was never easy being a good guy.

She kissed his mouth, so softly, encouraging. He grunted and cursed under his breath, "...women.". Hell wasn't waiting for him, it was _right_ here on Earth.

He let her go and slipped out of the shower to leave her behind. Her silhouette hunkered in the shower beyond that curtain, tempting him.

Softly, Aya queried once more, "...Leon...are you sure?" Even her voice wasn't sure. She was scared of wanting him. He understood that. Because there was never, in the whole wide world, a more complicated fuck than the one they'd have.

Was he sure?

Hell no.

But he moved to the door, padding wetly over the tiles, and actually answered her, at the door before he closed it, "No. I'm not sure. I'm hard. And if I don't get out of here, I'm going to put you on all fours and show you how dogs mate. I'd probably start howling like the wolfman at the full moon while we did it."

She laughed, groaning a little, beyond that damn curtain. "...your jokes are kinda awful."

"...I know. But at least you're not sad anymore." He closed the door and leaned back on it. His hands shot into his hair, tunneled hard, and tugged until his scalp burned. The pain was good. It forced reason back through the haze of hairy-backed want that made his balls hurt.

Would it hurt if he just...gave in? He never gave in. He wasn't a man that _ever_ indulged himself in things like that. In love affairs that would end painfully. In bad food that would clog his arteries. In vacations where he just got to...let go.

The only vices he allowed himself were an occasional stiff drink and cigarette. In fact, he needed both - _**right now**_.


	10. Chapter 10

 

**A/N: _(*1)_** _Italics in this chapter represent dreaming._

* * *

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**December, 2014–**

**Chapter Ten:**

**The Brain, the Blood, the Body**

* * *

**9:22 p.m. - Kennedy Residence- Main Hallway**

* * *

Leon helped himself to both of his vices.

Because? Because he'd denied himself the other perks. He denied whatever was in him too. He'd resisted. He was a saint. He was a eunuch. A martyr. He was to be knighted. He was to be given a special place in the kingdom of heaven at the right hand of gods and angels.

That's what saying no to a woman like that earned you.

Surely.

Dante woofed at him and circled three times. Leon gave him a narrow look and remarked, "You'd be one to judge, you old ball of fluff. You couldn't get a chic if you had a hundred dollar bill hanging outcha collar."

Dante woofed again and seemed to grin.

Leon rolled his eyes and answered, "What did the dog say to his wife? You are so pawfect, I will love you furever."

Dante sat down and eyed him. Leon, feeling the judgment, tried again, "What is a pup's favorite superhero? Labra-thor."

Dante put his face down between his legs to lick himself.

Leon sighed and left the house with a muttered, "...everybody's a critic. Even the damn dog is getting more action than I am."

Would he put his head between his legs to lick himself if it helped the blue balls he was suffering?

The image made him laugh and shake his head. Nothing like putting your life in perspective. He glanced at the open files on his kitchen table. Too much to weed through. Too much left to ask.

The note they'd found in room 305 was lying in a crumpled lump on the floor by the front door. Aya must have dropped it when he carried her in. The handwriting was rushed, frantic, and frenzied, " _...Midnight on the Orient Express."_

Agatha Christie. The story of a train filled with unrelated passengers who all band together to cover up the murder of a man who'd harmed them all in some way. Was the title significant? Was the theme of the story?

If he went to the subway station at midnight, would he find the answers?

When had the writer left it? Was it too late to get there now? Would it matter a damn if he did?

Only one way to find out.

He was standing on the porch in clean clothes smoking with a high ball of scotch in his hand when his phone rang. Kevin - calling him at just after 9 p.m. Hopefully with good news.

"Go."

Kevin laughed back at him, "Go where?"

Without missing a beat, Leon quipped, "Go check on your Mom, I just left her bowlegged and sweaty."

Kevin snorted, chuckling, "You wish. My Mom has standards."

"Must be pretty low based on how ugly her son is."

The laughter felt good. Normal. He needed all the normal he could get right. Kevin's voice was all kinds of eye-rolling as he replied, "Putting aside the fact that you're about twelve years old, I got in touch with Klamp. He agreed to see you and Aya in the morning."

"Aya?"

"Yeah, he seemed really specific that she be there."  
Leon furrowed his brow but answered, "Alright. What about the lab? Anything on the bodies?"

"That's the other thing - Birkin included himself in the autopsy."

There was quiet while Leon digested that. "Why?"

"I don't know. But he's been behind closed doors with that licker woman thing and the midget sized bat monster forever now. He actually looked kinda...excited? I don't know if that's the right word for possible Frankensteinian weirdos, but that's the best I got. He was wayyyyy too interested."

Leon nodded, tapping his fingers on the railing. The moon flickered behind heavy clouds, highlighting the small lake just beyond the rise of the property. He finally said, "Give Claire Redfield a buzz over at TerraSave. See if she's come across anything like those damn things in all the relief work she's done. Have Bo get in touch with someone who worked with the Birkins before they left Umbrella. I wanna know  _exactly_ what made William Birkin jump ship."

"You think he was playing god?"

A good question.

A difficult answer.

But Leon remarked, "I think the G-Virus was his baby. I think his good intentions were turned into a weapon I'm still trying to stop. I think you don't create something like that...from something ugly like T...without being just a little bit perverse."

Quietly, Kevin absorbed this before he answered, "You think Birkin helped mutate the lickers with the G-Virus? It's heavily controlled man. He's under the eye in the sky twenty-four seven...I don't know how'd he smuggle it out."

Leon shook his head, watching the clouds obscure the moon, and he replied, "I do."

Aya was listening to the speakerphone conversation. She filled in the blanks, surprising him, "...Megan Pearce."

Leon nodded and Kevin, on the phone, whistled, "You think Birkin used Pearce like a guinea pig?"

Aya shook her head, watching Leon's face, "No. We're gonna find out Hans Klamp did. He's gonna be connected to her. He sent her to Birkin...and Birkin just made sure she was the right donor for his daughter."

Leon nodded, holding her gaze, as Kevin responded, "Somebody fucked with her DNA."

Aya shook her head, "Neither of them are capable of that right? That has to happen at a  _cellular_ level. At the beginning. What is it? Mitochondria?"

Leon nodded. Kevin spoke up first, "Pretend I'm not a fucking genius and level it out for me. What are you getting at?"

Leon answered, pacing the porch, "Something engineered Megan Pearce to be the perfect mule for two mad scientists to play god with. Neither should have been able to...but there was something about her that made her the  _ideal_  subject. Why?" He shook his head, moving into the house to get his coat, "Get Rebecca Chambers, Kevin, tonight. Now. I need her. I need to know what makes Megan Pearce so special."

Aya watched him move, almost patiently. When the call ended with Kevin, he paused at the door and said, "...I'm sorry to ask. I am. But I need you to let me run a few tests on you."

Aya studied his face. He looked earnest, calm, and a little sad. She nodded, softly, "It's ok. If it helps, you can do anything you want to me."

Probably the wrong thing to say.

Probably.

Leon twitched his mouth and glanced at hers, "...man...I wish I knew if that was a line or not."

Aya shook her head, unable to stop the smile, "...Sir, I think you're a pervert."

"I'm not. I'm really really not. Enough with the sir, kid. I think we're past that." He tossed her a spare jacket from the rack by the door. It was black leather, too big, but warm and supple. She slid it on over the white t-shirt he'd loaned her. The jeans she wore fit surprisingly well.

Curious about it, she mused, "Why do you have women's jeans in your house?"

He shrugged, holding the door for her to climb into the SUV. "Kevin's sister crashes here sometimes when she's in town."

Brows arched, Aya waited until he pulled out onto the dark road to say, "You let his sister stay with you?"

He glanced at her and eased onto the long empty road toward the RPD. Her face was highly amused. Rolling his eyes, Leon said, "It's not like that. She's like a sister to me too."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, oh. And bro code says you don't bang your buddies sister."

What about banging your coworkers?

She stared into the dark, unwilling to ask. He was being the good guy here. He was saying no. He was keeping the divide up. It was the right thing to do.

What did it say about her that she was so drawn to the wrong?

So she mused, "You have a cute dog."

He shrugged a shoulder and looked a little sheepish, "A bad relationship that ended with the best friend I ever had. Dante's grouchy and mostly likes to eat pizza and steal my beer...but he's probably about as close to a clone of me as a canine can get."

Clones. The wrong word again. But she let it go with a small chuckle, "He's adorable...you're a dog guy."

"I'm a dog guy."

Damnit. She really didn't want to like him or his stupid white-haired poofy pizza eating dog. It just made it worse.

Aya shifted in her seat and remarked into the silence, "The note on the table...it was Melissa Pearce."

Surprised, he glanced away from the road toward her and back again. The moonlight gilded his face in a purplish hue until a car passed them and split the purple with gold. He was that guy whose face you remembered long after you met him.

It wasn't that he was handsome, not entirely, it was that his face was so expressive. She saw every emotion he had shoot over it as he felt it. It was a good face. The kind of face you wanted to watch while you made love.

Annoyed, Aya added, "The handwriting was the same as the one at Carnegie Hall. Melissa Pearce was in room 305. She used the trick wall to 305. Why? And what about the note she left? Was she alone? Was she responsible for the thing we killed there?"

Leon gave her a hard sigh, "More questions."

"I know." She considered and added, "While I'm undergoing whatever tests...maybe you should go see if the note is specific. Does she mean subway? Does she mean train yard? I don't know."

He shrugged lightly, "Maybe she's referencing rising up against the man responsible for all their misfortunes."

Aya arched her brows. "Like calling us all together to...what? Take on Birkin? Is he even the real bad guy here?"

"I don't know. But we're damn sure gonna find out. And when we do?" He laughed, dryly, "I'm gonna show him exactly what happens when you play god."

Curious, Aya wondered, "What happens when you play god?"

He glanced at her, the light hit his face and made him look...sinister, and he answered, "...eventually what you created rises up to destroy you."

She wasn't sure why...but she believed him. No. Wait...what was it?

She believed  _in_ him.

* * *

**11:00 p.m. -Raccoon City General Hospital- Lower Level Laboratory**

* * *

She was dreaming.

She didn't know it.

She was lying on a cot in the lab while Rebecca Chambers observed her brain waves and extracted images from her dreams. She jotted and sipped coffee, bobbling her brows. Above her, Leon watched the silent figure in the sad little hospital gown beyond the glass.

"What?"

Rebecca glanced up at him, her pixie face full of humor and curiosity, "...you're something else."

He arched a brow, "Why?"

Rebecca gestured to the jumble of things on the screen, "This is the subconscious at work. She's dreaming, hard, and her dreams..." Rebecca glanced up at him. "Maybe it's better if I show you."

Clicking a few keys, the former medic popped up a hologram in front of them. A fancy piece of work, to be sure, it showed a foggy idea of what Aya Brea was seeing. As the image came together, Rebecca remarked, "Her blood work is incredible. Like nothing, I've ever seen. There's something fused to the cells...what? I can't tell. It's sticking to her at the most basic level - altering her body in ways..." She trailed off, looking excited like a scientist with a new discovery, "I don't know what's happening to her, Leon...but she's  _evolving_."

The beep of the hologram told the reconstructed images from her brain scan were done. Rebecca cued up the video and leaned back in her chair, smirking. "Wanna explain, boss?"

He would, but he was too busy staring at the movie. Admittedly, he had a vested interest in the show.

His brow furrowed as he watched what they both wanted like a junkie looking for a fix.

* * *

**_Inside the head of Aya Brea...(*1)_ **

* * *

_Aya lifted her head as he lowered his. Neither stopped it or moved to try. They kissed, smooth and soft. The gentle swing of his hair tickled her face as he bent enough to reach her. Her fingers slid against his face and tunneled into his hair. She opened her mouth for the slide of his tongue._

_His hands skimmed up her ribcage to cup her breasts, pulling the sigh from her mouth into his as they kissed._

_He lifted her and her legs dangled as he carried her against his front out of the shower. The water continued to poor, but he didn't care. She didn't hear it. She kept hold of his hair in her hands as she claimed his mouth._

_He set her down on the dresser in his bedroom and her legs parted to let him between. The denim of his jeans tickled her thighs as they kissed again, wetter now, softer. One of them gasped for air as her hands slid against his belly and to the fly of his jeans._

_He let her, palming her breasts as he leaned her back against the mirror to kiss her. Their mouths broke and they watched each other as she slid her hand into his open fly to cup him. Silky, sticky, he brushed against her palm and made them both tremble._

_His hands left her breasts to catch the waistband and let them join the jeans on the floor. She brushed the slick tip of him against her body and whined softly in her throat. There was something she was forgetting. What was it?_

_The rustle of his jeans falling left him in boxers that clung haphazardly to his hips as he scooped her up again and turned to the bed._

_Whatever she was trying to remember? It didn't matter right then._

_They bounced on the bed and rolled twice, kissing, hands claiming. Her legs parted and he rubbed himself over her. The fusion of flesh and need made them both breathless._

* * *

**Back in the Lab**

* * *

The scientist in the room was having a field day. She was watching the pornographic display with the eye of someone dissecting a frog. He wished he was that detached, but he could almost  _feel_ what he was watching. Or maybe he just wished he could.

Beside him, Rebecca remarked, "She starts out submissive, but watch."

Oh, he was watching. He was kinda afraid he had a fucking boner, but he was watching.

How could he do anything but that?

* * *

_Aya rolled him beneath her, rising above him. Her hands slid up his arms to bind them over his head. She leaned down, licking and nipping at his mouth like a dog._

_No...like a wolf._

_Softly, he gasped, "I have-" Her mouth chewed over his jaw and ate at the pulse in his neck, "...wait...I can't think."_

_And Aya breathed, "Don't think. Just feel."_

* * *

Rebecca gestured at the display, "See? She's dominant to you in the dream. She commands you, softly, sure, but she's the boss. No doubt about that. What's curious is the why."

Leon arched his brow at her, "What do you mean?"

Holy hell this was simultaneously uncomfortably weird and impossibly hot. Because he was enjoying the living hell out of creep sneaking on Aya's dreams.

Rebecca was typing furiously on her keyboard.

Leon rolled his neck to loosen his shoulders.

And Rebecca added, "Wait for it. You'll see."

* * *

_Her teeth slid over his nipple, suckling, and his back bowed a little. With a gasp, he said, "Let go of my hands."_

_Against his skin, she laughed._

_But she didn't let go._

_Her wet heat rocked against his groin and Leon grunted, "...whoa...Aya...just...in the nightstand, ok? Condoms."_

_Her head tilted, again like a dog, and eyed him, "...we don't need condoms."_

_He shook his head. "You kidding? Of course, we do...just...it'll just take a second...let me-" She kissed him, all tongue, all need. Her breasts brushed and smashed on his chest. Her nails dug into his wrists._

_He tried to tug his hands free - and couldn't. She was stronger than she looked._

_He was breathless when she let go of his mouth. Like a wolf scenting blood, she rose above him. Panicked, he grunted, "...don't. Ok? Don't."_

_Don't what?_

_But of course, he knew. She lowered her hips, wiggling. It didn't take much. He was hard as a rock. He tried to stop her, he did, but she impaled herself on him with hiss of want._

_She was so wet. He was so ready._

_His body jerked. His hips thrust up into her._

_And she rode him to victory._

* * *

His hands were splayed on the counter, watching the movie unfold.

Rebecca glanced up at his face, "...she rapes you. Why?"

Surprised, he glanced over at her. "Rape?"

"Sure. You said no. Maybe your body likes it alright. But you said no. She took what she wanted, even though you didn't want it. That's rape, Leon. There's no other word for it. Why would she rape you?"

He shook his head, unsure he agreed. He was reluctant in the whole thing, maybe, but rape felt like the wrong word. He watched his alter ego in her dream throw back his head and fuck hard and desperate into that willing body. Rape?

What had Yoko Suzuki said?

_I'm the one that raped you._

What was it about the organs in these women and rape?

Dominance?

Did it have to conquer him to matter?

Leon mused, aloud, "Is there something in genes that seeks dominance over others?" It was rhetorical, but he was certainly going to find out if it was true.

Rebecca answered him anyway, "Gene dominance is all part of DNA, Leon. Dominance is, literally, coded into our mitochondria. Some mutations are recessive. Some aren't. I'm hoping Aya's blood will tell us why."

Leon shook his head, watching his body go wild on the hologram. Was he the type of man to let her? If she mounted him, would he stop her? He wanted her. It was painful. It was evident. Would it be rape?

He couldn't say yes and mean it.

Quietly, studying him, Rebecca said, "Look here. This is the end."

But part of him already knew how it ended.

* * *

_Their bodies made wet slapping sounds as they fused. It didn't last long, it couldn't, and she leaned down to lick his mouth and demand, "...go. Free yourself." She coupled it with, "I need you."_

_And he gasped, "I can't! Aya...stop. I can't."_

_But he did. His body went right ahead and gave her what she wanted. He came so hard in her that his body bowed like an electrical current had shot through it._

_Aya laughed. She rode. She robbed him of his release. And while he trembled...she leaned over...and bit his throat out._

_Blood sprayed her naked body as she claimed him. She kept right on fucking him as he gushed, as he died, and he never stopped shoving up into her._

* * *

Leon leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest.

The image flickered away.

Rebecca sat watching him until he finally glanced away from the sleeping girl beyond the glass to her face. "...what?"

"Doesn't this disturb you?"

Arching a brow, he shook his head, "Why? It's not her. It's whatever is inside of her." He turned back to look at her, "Would removing the cornea stop it?"

Rebecca shook her head, "It's too late for that. This has bonded, Leon. It's part of her now. I don't think there's any way at all to stop it. But it might...it might be the reason you react so strongly to her. The eye...it's connected directly to the brain. The parasite could use it at as a conduit to yours. What if that's why you can feel each other? What if that's the reason you're linked? What if the parasites share brain waves?"

Well...that was terrifying in about a thousand ways. He shook his head. "I hope you're wrong."

"Hell, me too."

He glanced back at her, "What about a cure?"

Rebecca shrugged, "I can try. But given what little we have to work with, synthesizing something could take months. How long do you really think she has?"

Leon looked back at her as Aya started to wake. "You tell me."

"The progression of this thing...if it continues...a few weeks. Maybe. Before she turns into whatever Sherry Birkin is...whatever Helena Harper is trying to become. I can retard it, maybe...but it's different in her."

Leon glanced at Rebecca, "How?"

"I don't know. She's not succumbing as fast. The little bit of data I can glean from those things you brought in...they mutated, fast. Whatever this is...it's not the T-Virus, Leon. It's not a virus at all...it's already in her."

Leon took a deep breath, "What about those damn things that came after us?"

"That's the weird part...the thing that you fought that was mostly a woman? That's the T-Virus...or a variant of it." Rebecca clicked keys on the keyboard of her computer, "But the thing in the room? You said it was invisible right?"

"Right."

"That one...there's no sign of the virus. Nothing. The cells...they have this mutation that exists on the most primal level. Whatever infected them? It didn't just mutate them, it literally reprogrammed their DNA. The two aren't connected at all. The  _only_ connection I can find? The licker in that boiler room had evidence of both viral mutation and gene manipulation. That? It had a double dose of whatever this all is."

Leon kept watching as Aya slid off the cot beyond the glass and shed the paper gown. She dressed, in better fitting clothes this time, but she kept the jacket he'd given her. She slid it on and, unaware she was being watched, took a moment to sniff it and cuddle it around her.

His heart thumped - twice.

Rebecca interrupted him, clearing her throat. Embarrassed, he turned away from the glass, "Sorry. You were saying?"

Rebecca tilted her head, considering something. She gestured with her arm, "Sit down."

"Why?"

"Just...trust me."

Leon eased to the chair and Rebecca rolled up the sleeve of his white thermal shirt. Admittedly, he was worth a few wet dreams, she thought from an objective standpoint. He wore that thermal undershirt beneath a black Guns 'N Roses tee. The distressed jeans over the heavy steel-toed boots crossed classic rocker with ass-kicking badass. He was handsome, without trying, charming, without knowing it, and worth a few crushes.

Rebecca pulled a vial of blood while she said, "You have what we call dart veins."

Leon arched a brow, "Meaning?"

"I could chuck this needle from across the room like a dart and hit your vein." Rebecca smirked, "It means you're muscular enough that you're in great shape."

"Ah." Not a compliment, he thought, not from her. She was just stating facts. He studied her head as she ran his blood through some kind of program, "What are you looking for?"

"Answers." She eyed him and said, "The attraction between you fascinates me. Admittedly, I'm attracted to you."

She said it so casually that he just blinked and she laughed, shrugging, "You'd have to be blind or dead not to be. You're handsome. You're in good shape. You scream virile, masculine man. You attract both men and women, naturally."

Talk about laying it out there. She just lobbed that in like a grenade. It was somehow amusing and refreshing at the same damn time. Women.

Leon leaned back in the chair, "Ok. What are you saying here?"

"I'm attracted to you like I'm attracted to Kevin. He's charming. He's funny. He's probably good in bed." When he snorted, Rebecca chuckled, "Stop it. I'm just talking to you straight here."

"I'm not sure Kevin does anything straight."

She smacked his knee and rolled her eyes, "Focus."

"Right. You're hot for me - showing good taste. And hot for Kevin -suggesting slight mental retardation."

"...Leon."

The admonishment felt vaguely like his Mom scolding him. He cleared his throat, "Sorry. Continue."

"But attraction is natural. It's part of life. You and Aya?" Rebecca shook her head, "Nothing I've ever seen. Ever. It's like...two cells trying to fuse. You're resisting, and it's possible...highly possible...that it's actually hurting you both to do so."

His brows winged upwards, "...hold the phone here."

She picked up her lab phone and held it until he laughed and shook his head, "...smart ass."

"Probably better than a dumb ass."

Giving her a long suffering look, Leon continued, "You saying I should go in there and screw her brains out?"

Yep. His body liked that. No reaction at all to Rebecca confessing attraction, but one second of picturing Aya with her legs beside her ears and he was sporting a chubby in his Diesel jeans.

Rebecca chuckled, eyes twinkling, "I think she'd thank me afterward if you did, we both know you won't anyway, and that it might be exactly what needs to happen. The dreams she mentioned and you mentioned. Yoko calling me to tell me hers. Something is coming for you, Kennedy. It's highly possible if you give in and pick your partner here, that you might be able to stop it."

"You think me having sex with Aya Brea might stop the apocalypse?" Oh lord. Saying it out loud made them both laugh.

Rebecca shrugged, "I don't know yet. But I promise I'll tell you when I do. What I figure is that you're both walking a fine line. Nothing wrong with stepping over it because there may come a time you don't have a choice anymore. Right now?" She gestured with her head, "I think someone is looking for you."

"Apparently, there's too many women doing that."

"I know. Maybe you should look back at the one waiting for you."

"Looking at women gets me in trouble."

Rebecca shrugged, "Some things are worth it."

Too smart for her own good, that's what she was. He tapped his lips, chuckled, and patted her knee. "You're something else, kid. You know that?"

"Yeah? They say you're practically a genius."

"Pfft. Someone said the earth was flat once too. People are stupid sometimes."

She watched him head out into the hallway. Humble. She glanced down at the readings she'd taken on his blood. Humble or not, what was throwing through his veins was extraordinary...and pretty much an echo of the man it came from.

He rose, moving out into the hallway. He lowered his sleeve as he went. Aya glanced at it and back at his face, "You ok?"

_Don't think. Just feel._

He shook his head, loosening the image of her dreams. It wouldn't do any good to scare her with them. It didn't help anything to tell her. Leon cracked a smile and shrugged, "I don't know that I've ever really been fine since N'Sync broke up."

Aya rolled her eyes, "Big J.T. fan?"

"Oh, you know it. Cry me a river."

Aya laughed and fell into step beside him. "Someone's probably told you how bad your humor is before me, right?"

"...it's come up a time or two."

From down the hallway, Kevin shouted, "There's a first time for everything! Usually you can't get it up at all."

Aya, without missing a beat, whispered, "That's funny. I don't think I've been around you when it was down."

They both froze. And yep, they both looked at his crotch to check. Sure enough, she was right.

She blinked and her face flamed bright red. Leon, charmed by her, replied, "Another Viagra success story."

She dropped her forehead against his chest, laughed, and backed away, "Oh, lord. I hate what you do to me."

"Do you?" He wanted to hug her. It was an odd feeling for him. Part burning need, part tender interest. Yikes. He was turning into a girl. Maybe the plagas in his chest was a woman.

It certainly kept hanging on like one.

He snorted at his own joke as Aya said, "Should probably try to get some sleep. Klamp agreed to see us before the Museum opens tomorrow morning. I'm going to visit Helena first. Although I don't know that it matters that I do. She can't hear me right?"

He nodded and answered, "I'm going to go check out the midnight express train at the Subway."

Aya paused and shook her head, "I should go with you. What if she's there?"

Curious, Leon tilted his head, "Good. We need to talk to her."

"No...I just..." She glanced around and tugged him into an alcove where the vending machines were. In the light of the pop machine, she finished, softly, "What if you...react to her...like you to do me?"

Oh. It was a good question. She didn't look jealous or upset. She looked worried about him.

Leon winked at her and replied, "I'll take Kevin with me. It's impossible to get wood with him anywhere close by. He's a boner killer. I'll be fine. I can handle myself, Aya."

"What if you can't? What if she does what the dreams -" Aya shook her head, "I should tell you about my dreams, Leon. I should tell you."

He felt guilty now. He did. Because he already knew about them. He'd seen them. He'd watched them like a dirty pervert in a XXX theater. He started to answer and Aya urged, "If you react to her, you might let her hurt you. I just-I don't want her to hurt you."

Touched, he scanned her face with his eyes. Something in him softened in a way that scared him, a little, because it had nothing to do with the parasite linking them. It was him.

Leon blew out a sharp breath and invaded her personal space. She let him press against her and they both made happy sounds. He murmured, "...it's not me you should be worried about, Aya."

She shook her head. Her fingers tucked into his shirt and tugged. Her back bumped into the wall and he went, happily, one hand flattening on the wall beside her face, the other tightening into a fist near his hip.

Her mouth turned up to touch at his. He didn't touch her. So he was getting better. He didn't stop her from nuzzling around his mouth like a cat in heat either...but he didn't touch her.

Even though his blood felt like lava.

What if giving in was the answer? Was Rebecca right? Was it possible that giving in would be what  _saved_ them?

He whispered, "Aya... _Aya..._ I saw your dream."

She stopped trying to kiss him. She backed against the wall and put that artificial distance between them. They watched each other while they both breathed heavily.

Finally, Aya returned, hoarsely, "...I killed you."

He nodded, keeping his face calm. "I know."

She shook her head, she tried again, with more urgency, "No..no.  _I killed you._  I held you down and I killed you."

Leon wouldn't let her look away. He kept his voice level, his eyes level, his feelings level -sorta. "I won't let that happen. Aya..."

She closed her eyes and denied him. She turned her head away. "...you should go. It's almost midnight."

He denied that request as well and caught her chin to turn her face back to him. "Look at me."

She did, tremulously.

Leon imparted, "I won't let that happen. Do you understand me?"

Aya returned, softly, "Which part? The killing?...or the sex? Rebecca told you, I'm sure, that it might be good to have sex. It's like getting permission from your mother to fuck in her bed."

He kept his gaze cold and returned, "Until we know more? Either. Parasite or not...I'm still me. I don't die easy. In Spain, I didn't sleep for three days until Ashley was safe. I know how to deny myself, Aya. It doesn't matter how much I might want to give in."

She scanned his face. He looked so resolute. Like in the car, she believed him. He meant it.

She laughed, softly, and said, "Saint George. Gonna fight the dragon?"

"That's the story of my life, kid."

"...I hate that I'm your dragon."

He answered, almost immediately, "Not you. I kinda like you."

Oh. Shit. Her heart thumped twice, "...same."

"Yeah. Sucks, doesn't it?"

"Big time."

Leon let go of her face and backed up. In one hand, he got it. He did. He was the one who pushed her into the wall. He was the one who touched her in the shower. He'd watched her dream and coveted her. It was him.

He was the perv.

Maybe she was the one with less control, but she was the one with the damn organ in her. He was touching her like a guy taking advantage of a drunk chic. It was pathetic.

It was time to get away from her. All the resolution in the world wouldn't last forever. End of the day? He was still a man. And he wanted her.

It had been a long time since he'd wanted a woman that didn't have Ada Wong's face.

Without looking at her, he moved into the hallway and said, "Visit your sister. Get some sleep. I'll wake you when I get back."

Aya watched him go, yearning a little. For what? How much was the parasite and how much was them? Was there any way to know the answer to that?

She couldn't lose sight of what they were doing here. The world might depend on it.

All she had to do was keep her hand out of Kennedy's pants, or if Rebecca was right...maybe take them off him completely.

Aya closed her eyes to suffer like a sinner in silent frustration. It was fitting he had a dog named Dante, because every time she was around him? She went down into another circle of  _hell_.


	11. Chapter 11

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**December 2014–**

**Chapter Eleven:**

**The Thing on the Train**

* * *

**11:58 p.m. - South Raccoon City Subway Line - Midnight Express Route Station**

* * *

The last time he'd set foot in a subway, the whole city had been trying to eat him.

Leon paused as he stepped through the roundabout that admitted them and other patrons into the heavily populated station. It was bustling, which made sense in the city that never slept. They were still growing here in Raccoon, but it was close enough to the biggest city in the state.

Kevin was surprisingly quiet as they took the escalator to the bottom platform.

The posters on the walls kept talking about seeing your doctor to avoid getting a venereal disease. Sex was a killer after all. It was certainly killing him...or at least the lack of it.

When they were stuck on the escalator behind a fat guy in a blue windbreaker and a homeless man carrying a mangy looking mutt, Kevin finally spoke. "You wanna tell me what the hell you're doing?"

Leon glanced over at him and arched a brow, "...is this a trick question? Pretty sure we're both on the escalator going down."

Kevin shook his head. The heavy leather coat he wore was paired with old jeans and cowboy boots. His shaggy dark hair and five o'clock shadow were giving Leon a  _very disapproving_ look. "You're going down all right, I'd make a pussy joke, but we're surrounded by people."

A woman on the upward rising escalator beside them gave Kevin a dirty look as she passed.

Leon snorted, "Right. Mr. Considerate."

"Speaking of pussy," Kevin returned conversationally, "Eating any you shouldn't be?"

The fat guy snorted in front of them and glanced over his shoulder. So much for discretion, Leon thought with a wry amusement.

Leon gave him a grin and remarked, "What happened to concern for the other patrons of this modern moving staircase?"

Kevin gave him a bland stare until Leon reiterated, "Sadly, no. Not that I'm aware of."

And the fat guy replied, "Same, brutha. I feel ya."

A voice behind them inquired, "How can somebody  _not_ be aware they're eating pussy?"

Ignoring that remark, Kevin returned, "I saw you, you fucking idiot. I saw you in the hospital leaning all over her."

Oh. Well...that was unfortunate. However, it was also easily explainable. "I'm not touching her."

Kevin snorted dryly, "Yeah? She was touching you."

Leon licked his teeth and searched for patience, "Ok. One - it was harmless. Two - I'm staying away from her as much as I can."

"Oh? You took her  _home_ with you, boss. Home. To your house. You get naked with her while you were there?"

Two teenage girls behind the homeless guy giggled. Leon couldn't stop the laugh. All of Raccoon City was currently listening to his personal hell. It was a new low.

"No, I didn't." That was technically true. He'd never been naked.  _She_ had. But not him. So he wasn't lying...exactly.

Kevin narrowed his eyes at him. Leon felt like he was possibly under interrogation for terrorism. He lifted his hands, palms open, and showed himself unarmed. "Easy, Mom, I'm not lying."

Kevin poked a finger into Leon's chest and returned, "Good. Stay away from her. You made me your cock block buddy, remember?"

The girls giggled again as Kevin added, "I can't block your cock if you keep taking her to your house to cuddle or whatever."

"She was devastated about that boy. She needed a break. I'm not just some pervert trying to avoid sleeping with her, Kevin. I'm her boss. It's my job to help her learn how to cope with stuff like that. She broke down, she vented, she glued her pieces together and got back up. I did the right thing." Mostly, he added silently, until she told you she was wet for you and you palmed her p-

Interrupting that self reflection, Kevin gave him a cold look and accused, "...your hair was wet when you got to the hospital."

Leon arched his brows, "...ooook. And?"

"So was hers."

The girls giggled and one informed him he was, "...busted."

Defending himself, Leon remarked, "Ok. Yes. She was in the shower."

The fat guy inquired, "...naked?"

Someone wondered, "Who gets in a shower with clothes on?"

A good question. He wanted to raise his hand as an answer.

Leon narrowed his eyes and looked like he was thinking, hard, "...she might have been naked, yes."

Kevin punched his arm and exclaimed, "I knew it! You nail her in the shower? You're her  _boss!"_

Leon lifted his hands again, "I didn't. I barely touched her. I kept my damn pants on. So apparently I'm the guy in the shower with clothes on. She needed a shoulder and a hug."

Kevin gave him a glance of disbelief, "You saying you never touched her? You didn't cop a feel?"

Should he lie? He thought about it, but that just wasn't how he was built. He tried not to lie. Even if the truth hurt.

To which Leon admitted, "...ok, yes, I-...there  _might have been..._ or was some feeling. A little bit. A teeny bit. A smidge."

Kevin punched him again. "Idiot! I knew it! What the hell is wrong with you man?"

Leon shrugged a shoulder as the homeless guy said, "I wish I had someone to snuggle. Leave him alone about it."

Kevin sighed and replied, "Listen...weird hobo guy with a dog...you don't know what's going on here. So just...keep stinking like garbage and mind your own business."

The homeless guy shrugged himself and said, "Nothing wrong with hugging someone who needs it. Maybe you need a hug to stop being so grumpy."

The fat guy glanced over his shoulder again and added, "Is she hot?"

Leon laughed and sighed, "...smokin."

"...dude. Don't be a bitch next time. Keep on feelin."

Kevin rolled his eyes and intoned, "Right. Because the Kool-Aid man in front of us there is really a good judge of right and wrong."

One of the girls threw in her two cents, "I bet she liked the hugging. Did you kiss her?"

Kevin exclaimed, "Strangers on the escalator! This is an A and B conversation, please see your way out of it."

They reached the bottom of the escalator. The fat guy exited first. Leon and Kevin followed. The homeless guy went next. When the teenage girls joined them on the subway platform, Leon told them, "...there might have been some kissing...a little. A smidge."

And one of the girls sighed, "...she's lucky."

The other one added, "You're pretty cute...for an old guy."

They ran off giggling. The homeless guy gave Leon a look that...was distinctively flirty..and added, "You don't look old to me. You look just right. And for the record? She is. Lucky girl." He winked and took his ugly mutt toward his subway car.

The fat guy snorted out a laugh, "Dude...next time? Make me proud, k?" He offered his fist to bump.

Leon bumped him and laughed, shaking his head. The fat guy waddled toward his exit. Kevin wondered, "What the hell just happened? Besides you getting your goodies eyeballed by a homeless guy and a couple of girls."

And Leon answered, "Honestly? I think they all got my back on the issue."

"You think they would if we tell them that fucking Aya Brea could bring about the apocalypse?"

Hadn't Rebecca basically told him the opposite? Leon rolled his eyes as they turned to the platform to start across it. "We don't know that."

"We know it's bad. It's all bad. What if your bodies want you guys to mate to...become some kind of mutant hybrid monster?"

Leon paused. Kevin paused. They held gazes. Leon wondered, "...are you picturing us turning into  _Voltron_?"

Kevin laughed, sharply, "...yes. Bastard."

They both laughed and kept on walking. Leon finally assured him, "Right now? I'm not touching her. I can't promise I won't touch her...but I'm trying. But thanks for being my cock block buddy."

Kevin patted his back and soothed, "Don't worry. We stop the big bad nasty, you can fuck her bowlegged afterward."

Leon laughed and shook his head, scanning the crowd for Melissa Pearce as Kevin added, "...she look good naked?"

Leon wiped a hand down his mouth and blew out a sharp breath, "...better. Damn her."

With sympathy, Kevin patted his back again, "Sucks to be you, brother. It reallllly does. Rebecca told me about the dream."

Leon blew out another breath and shrugged, "Just dreams. Doesn't have to mean anything. Yoko Suzuki had them. I had them. So far they're not prophetic. Not really. Nothing has come to pass in them."

"Sometimes our luck holds then, huh?"

Leon started to answer him and the black cloak caught his eye. He shifted against the bodies in front of him instead. It was leaning toward the rails behind the trail that just pulled into the station.

"Kevin?"

"I see it."

They split up to try to flank the figure. They were speaking softly to someone. Was there another person there?

As they got closer, Leon tried to make out a face on the figure. They shifted in their cloak. They paused and turned, so slowly, and locked eyes with him even through the crowd of people between them.

And everything stopped.

His breath blew out and crystallized, frozen in the air in front of him, as the world paused.

Above the silence, the voice in the cloak inquired, "Have you come to seek the truth?"

Leon stopped moving and answered, "What's the truth?"

The voice replied, "Nothing you do matters. Nothing you do changes anything. Alone...you can't stop it. Find the others. Fight the war."

Leon shook his head, "I'm trying. I'm trying to fight the war. I need answers. Who are you? Are you Melissa Pearce?"

The figure shook its head. It glanced down the dark subway tunnel behind the train and back at his face. Its own face was carefully concealed in the cloaks dark hood. "You'll find her in the place where the music stops. You'll find her at the beginning. Don't you feel it?"

Leon lifted his hands, empty, "Feel what?"

"...the calling." The figure tilted its head like it was listening to music he couldn't hear, "It's in the blood. It's in the breeze. Follow your blood, Leon. The answers are all there."

The red balloon in its hand was offered to the dark beyond the subway car. "How brave are you? Don't you understand? You're lost. Find yourself."

"I don't understan-"

The world snapped back. The red balloon floated down the dark tunnel.

Kevin remarked, "Where'd he go?"

But Leon wasn't listening. He shoved, hard now, against the bodes in his way. He reached the end of the car and vaulted down onto the tracks behind it. Surprised, Kevin shouted after him.

But he didn't stop. He ran.

Leon flipped on the light on the gun as he tugged it free. He wasn't sure why he felt like he should have it in his hands, but he'd been doing this a long time. He always listened to his instincts.

The balloon dipped and swirled. The dark stretched out. His boots echoed as he ran. His breath huffed white.

Kevin's shouts lagged behind him; lost.

The echo of footsteps accompanied the high pitched giggle of a little girl. The fear had teeth as it latched into his belly. But he kept on running anyway.

The balloon pitched, swirled, and popped. The pieces of latex scattered over the ground. He was alone in the dark now. The flicker of his light shifted as he moved, scanning, searching, but for what?

His light bobbled over a dirty backpack tucked into the corner of the track. Leon eased toward it, breath heaving. He kicked it with his boot and it wiggled.

The backpack wiggled.

He almost shot it. His finger eased off the trigger as he blew out a hard breath and Kevin reached him through the fog surrounding them. Blowing out heavy puffs of white air, Kevin remarked, "It's fucking colder than a well diggers ass down here."

They both stared at the dirty backpack for a long moment.

Finally, Kevin filled the silence, "This is the start of a really bad horror movie."

"The start?" Leon shook his head with a scoff and nudged the bag with his boot again, "We're already in the middle of the movie, pal."

"Truer words, my friend," Kevin shrugged a little, "We gotta open it right? Because the weirdo in the cloak clearly left it."

Leon shook his head, considering, "What if its full of parasites or something?"

"...ok. Maybe it's full of beer. I'm a glass half full kinda guy."

Leon snorted and rolled his eyes, "You see the balloon?"

Kevin arched his brows. "...was there a balloon? I blinked and you were gone man. I didn't know what the hell happened."

Aya had seen the balloon. In the park, Aya had seen it. Kevin didn't. What did that mean? Nothing. Everything. Anything. Time would tell. How much time did they have here?

Leon informed him, "Cover me."

"You bet, boss.

He knelt to unzip the backpack. It had wiggled. He'd seen it wiggle...but he'd also seen a balloon that no one else had. Was he hallucinating? One more damn thing he didn't know.

He unzipped it fully and backed off in a crouch aiming his gun at the exposed contents.

A rat scurried away with a squeak and a scuttle of feet. It was...bleeding? Was it bleeding? It was gone too fast to tell, but it left behind a pile of clothes and a little silver disk tucked into the mess of them. It looked like the disc he'd used at the Apple Inn. This one had an embossed image of James Marcus.

Leon let Kevin pick up as he turned away to pace a little further into the dark.

Kevin wondered, "...ok. Cloaked guys leaving us...what? Money? What is this?"

"It'll be a key..to something we don't really want to see."

Kevin glanced at him, "Like what?"

Leon shook his head and turned back. "Where does the music stop?"

Kevin gave him a confused look, "I don't know. Why?"

"It's a riddle...it's-you know what? It doesn't matter." It mattered. The place where the music stopped. The beginning. What did that mean? He glanced at the trickle of blood beside his boot.

It led further into the dark.

It was suicide to follow the dark. Only fools went alone into the unknown. He had a feeling he'd found all he was going to down in the dark, but he said, "Get a team down here. Do a sweep. Maybe we'll get lucky."

Kevin nodded and offered him the disc, "The pile of shit looks like costumes."

Curious, Leon glanced at the clothes strewn about as Kevin put in a call to BCU for a sweeper team. They'd show up with crime scene investigation equipment engineered to check for viral and biological agents. Maybe he'd get lucky. Maybe they'd find something to help him understand.

Costumes.

What did Melissa Pearce do? She was an opera singer. She was in some performance at Carnegie Hall. Was that the answer? The music stopped? Did that mean the show was canceled because she'd run? Was she still there? Hiding?

Leon put a call into the proprietor of Carnegie Hall. He didn't expect to hear back until the morning about it anyway, but he was hopeful it meant that Melissa Pearce was still in New York. If he found her, maybe he'd find answers. With Helena and the other transplant recipient in comas, there was no one else to ask.

He paused, considering. They'd been spending this whole time investigating the ones who weren't in the coma. What about the ones who  _were?_

_What if the answer was lying in the hospital right now?_

Leon dialed Bo as he was leaving the subway in the capable hands of the sweepers. They cordoned off the midnight express route to avoid traffic and interruption. He left Kevin to man the operation.

Bo picked up on the first ring which was impressive for just past one in the morning. "Yeah, boss?"

Leon left the SUV for Kevin and hailed a cab on the street corner. "I'm headed back to the hospital to check on Aya and the comatose organ recipients. I need you to look into both of them. Hard."

"You're not the first one to suggest it, weirdly enough. Kevin mentioned it earlier. I'm looking into Helena already."

"Not just Helena, the other one too. What's her name?"

Bo rustled some papers. Leon heard the lights turn on at his place. "Uh...Baker. Zoe Baker. Says here she's not a New Yorker though. She came up with some family after UNOS alerted them to the organ."

Interesting. Which meant Baker wasn't local. The others? All Raccoon City natives. Baker wasn't from New York.

Could mean nothing. UNOS was country wide. It was a matter of a list...right? But who had control of that list?

"Find out about Zoe Baker. Where she comes from. Who she knows. See if she ties to any of the others, to the Birkins, to Hans Klamp, Helena, the Pearces...to Aya." The silence drug out between them and Leon added, "Protocol, Bo. Not personal."

"Aint it? I see how you look at her. We all do. I gotta tell yeh this boss...I respect the hell outta you. You and I? We go back a long way. I remember your one day on the force in Tall Oaks years ago. You rabbited. You ran. And you became something pretty fuckin great. I couldn't be workin with a better soldier in the war were fightin here."

Leon slid into the back of the cab and waited for it.

Bo didn't disappoint him, "But I gotta say it, because she's my girl. She's my family. You hurt her? I'm gonna wipe the floor with your perfect hair. I don't care how much of a goddamn legend you are."

Leon leaned back against the seat. He slid his hands over his face and rubbed at it, briskly. Into the phone, he remarked, "I'm not gonna hurt her. I won't touch her."

Bo was quiet for so long that Leon thought he'd hung up until the other man said, "...you touch her, you keep her - ya hear me?"

Leon stared at the roof of the cab for a long moment before he answered, "Is that like your blessing?"

Bo came back to him on a laugh, "I'm sayin she could do worse. God knows she has. With that goddamn Kyle walkin out on her, she deserves a guy who sticks around. You better stick, Kennedy. And you better stay. She's not the type of girl you leave behind."

Leon took a long breath and laughed, dryly, "You ain't kidding about that, man...you know it's bordering on insubordination for you to talk to me like this, right?"

Bo laughed as well, "Don't care about that shit. You know that. You tell me to back you and run into the middle of a fire fight, I'm your guy. I don't bail. I don't balk. And I don't back down. But I also protect what's mine. Take care of her. Treat her right. And you and me are good."

"I won't hurt her." The second he said it, Leon hoped it was the truth. "Get me what you can on Baker and Helena."

"I'm countin on you, Kennedy, don't let me down. As for the rest of it? I'm on it. Night Boss." Bo clicked off.

Everybody was always counting on him. It was the reoccurring song of his sad life. He looked at his reflection in the glass and wondered why he didn't look Atlas with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

* * *

**1:42 a.m. - December 27th - Raccoon City Hospital**

* * *

He found her sitting at Helena's beside. She was sleeping with her head on her sister's arm. For a long moment, as he stood there, he tried to imagine the pain she was feeling about the woman in the bed.

He liked Helena. They'd become good friends in Tall Oaks. He had no idea she was harboring feelings for him. He'd never guessed. She'd never said. It didn't change anything, because he wouldn't have touched her. Usually? He didn't touch the women he worked with.

Usually? He was ethical as all hell.

Usually.

Aya was wearing some kind of black sweat pants and a loose-fitting gray sweater with the N.Y.P.D. logo across the chest. She'd ponytailed her shaggy hair after she'd showered apparently as it was still damp against the back of her neck. She was thin. She was short. She was built small and athletic. She wasn't his type.

Not really.

Honestly? Helena was. She was tall. She was exotic looking. She had boobs and legs for days.

But she wasn't what he wanted either.

It wasn't that simple for him. It never had been. He was careful about his lovers. He was selective. He didn't just bone girls to get his dick wet. He respected girls. He worked with some of the best women in the business. He didn't poach. He didn't touch. He flirted, but that was harmless. His last "relationship" had been a reporter for the Raccoon Press. Alyssa Ashcroft wasn't a woman who made dating easy.

He'd gotten away with his balls in tact and Dante. Mostly.

But it led to a life of celibacy.

He hadn't been to bed with a woman for over a year.

He had to pause and think about that. It was right. The timing put his one brief, sweaty, and damning experience with Ada at just about eighteen months ago. Before Tall Oaks, before he'd run into the ESR and nearly died...before...he'd made the mistake of having too many drinks and too little control.

On the balcony overlooking the Rhine, he'd turned her against the railing and filled her out like an application.

_Stupid._

Utterly clownshoes stupid. He knew where it led. He knew what it meant. Stupid. He'd woken up the next morning with a hangover, a mountain of regret, and a missing phone. Such was Ada's way. She'd managed to get something out of him even after walking away with his dignity.

He'd done a damn good job of avoiding her since then. But she was here now. She was out there. What did she want?

What did she have to do with Aya?

It was uncommon for her to play games. Playing with Aya would amuse her while she waited for him. But what did it mean that she was here?

He left Aya sleeping beside her sister and glanced over at the other bed. Zoe Baker. Some skinny thing with a bad hair cut. She'd been the recipient of the lungs. The lungs. Was the organ significant? That was the question.

Aya had the eye...she could see things now. Monsters. There was no discounting that the eye had...powers. Helena had received a kidney. The other kidney had gone to a woman who'd died immediately after the transplant. She'd rejected the organ. The liver had gone to Yoko Suzuki. The heart to Melissa Pearce. The brain to Sherry Birkin.

Sherry seemed to be the pied piper of the organs.

But what did that mean for those two who were sleeping?

What powers were they manifesting while they slept?

He needed to find out about Zoe Baker. Did he need to look into the dead recipient? He felt like she'd rejected the organ for a reason. Maybe she wasn't important. But it wouldn't hurt to check.

He'd get Bo on it in the morning.

Right now he needed sleep.

Aya touched his arm and surprised him. He'd been so busy thinking about everything that he hadn't even seen her move. She smiled up at him and looked exhausted, "You look dead on your feet. You find anything?"

He shrugged as they walked. "More questions. I need to know if Pearce is still performing."

"I'll find out in the morning. You think it matters?"

"I think it all matters. Any change in Helena?"

"No. Her vitals are strong. Her brain waves are active...but she won't wake up. " She opened the door to the on-call room where they let her sleep. "You can use the bed," She told him "I'll grab the couch. I'm gonna get something to drink first."

Leon leaned in the doorway, watching her face, "We're headed in the right direction here, Aya. Don't give up hope."

She smiled, weakly, "I won't. Get some sleep."

Aya moved down the hallway and Leon watched her go. He knew she was struggling with Helena's comatose state. He wanted to comfort her, but he wasn't sure he had the words. They were all fleshy vessels for something bad.

He knew it in his bones.

He just didn't know what to do about it.

He left the bed for Aya and took the couch. Since he was too tall, he was basically half-propped against the uncomfortable side.

He heard her come in the room. He heard her rustle around. And after a handful of moments, he heard her get up from the bed.

Shifting, his arm lifted as she slid underneath it. He wasn't sure how he knew she'd need it, but he let her crawl onto his lap and lay her cheek on his chest. His hand curled around her hip, holding her.

Softly, she breathed into the dark, "...it's stupid to sleep on this couch."

Leon laughed, lightly, his chest rumbling, "Yep. Stupid."

He sure was stupid lately.

Shifting, he carried her in one arm like a sack of grain and made her laugh as he tossed her on the bed.

It was a bad move.

The image evoked the other - naked, crawling on each other like desperate things. She'd let him. Her goddamn dream said she'd let him. And what good would it do?

It would kill them both.

Annoyed, Leon climbed onto the bed beside her and she snuggled against his back - the big spoon.

It made him smirk and slide his arm over hers around his waist. "How's that working out for you?"

Aya smiled into the dark, "Just fine. Maybe this time, I hold you for awhile."

Damn.

Something seized in his chest, surprising him. Apparently, that was going to make him emotional. Leon shook his head, but he didn't shift away. Somewhere inside, he wanted that damn hug.

Settling in, he unhooked his shoulder holster and set it on the ground next to the bed. She pressed her cheek against the warmth of his shirt as he laid down against her again. Her hands slid over his chest and pressed, hugging him from behind.

Quietly, he murmured, "I don't think this is helping us keep the distance here."

And she answered, "It's just a hug, Kennedy. Not a marriage proposal."

He laughed, shaking his head.

And admitted that he liked the feel of her arms around him. Maybe it was time to just let that be enough. All they had to do was avoid getting physical. Until they knew what it meant. Until they knew what was happening with any of them.

All they had to do was avoid having sex.

He'd been avoiding sex with women most of his life. The few times he'd given in, horrible and terrible things had happened. So it was better to just stay celibate and do his damn job.

How hard could that possibly be?

* * *

**3:19 a.m. - South Raccoon City Subway Line - Main Sewer Access**

* * *

The piled bodies of the rats were left in a corner like something had devoured their parts and dumped their carcasses. They were missing bellies and eyes and half of their faces. Something had feasted and fled.

The tracks were slick and bloody.

Kevin turned away from the show to strike up a cigarette in the putrid dark. Lamps were aloft to light the passage, of course, illuminating the darkness like a crime scene. Techs came and went, taking scrapings and findings and collecting samples. What good would it do?

Another dead end in a series of endless disappointments.

He was starting to lose heart in the face of the things they didn't know. The scope of the investigation was enormous. There were eighteen threads to tug and every one unraveled a bigger knot at the end.

He rubbed the back of his neck with a tired groan. The longer he worked with Leon, the more he was aware that the former right hand of the president was losing his mind. He had to be, right? He was seeing ghosts or something.

There couldn't be any fucking ghosts. Kevin scoffed at the idea. Ghosts and zombies and mutants and monsters. What circle of hell was this again?

The riddle kept circling in his head. Where did the music stop? And what did "at the beginning" mean? Who was the beginning? Pearce? Which one? Carnegie Hall was Melissa. It was music. It was the only place he could think to start.

The ladder to the dark wiggled as a pair of legs and a nice ass climbed down them. Rebecca leaped off with her case looped over her chest for on-site sample evaluation. She glanced at him and noted the fatigue around his eyes and mouth.

"Kevin - you look worse than the shit you're currently standing in."

He laughed and shook his head, "Sewers. Fucking monsters and sewers. They can't get a room at the Hilton? They have to hole up in the dark and breed in back alleys and human waste? Is it a rule?"

Rebecca smiled and shrugged. She shifted to set up her kit on the table erected by the crime scene team. "Have no fear, Watson is here. Take a break, Sherlock, and let me see what I can dig up for you."

He chuckled and stubbed out his cigarette away from the scene. "We never got that dinner."

"Nope. You stood me up, you cad." She said it without rancor as she began the program on her laptop to isolate specific genes in the blood samples.

"I'll make it up to you. You want some coffee?"

"...is it that crap the techs made over there?"

He snorted, "Nope. The good stuff from the Korean on 85th and Lex."

"Oooh. You tease. Share."

He offered her in the cup in his other hand and watched her work. She ran samples and made notes. The little white coat she wore was still pristine over jeans and a blue sweater. "What are you looking for?"

"Similarities between what's down here and what we have on file from Tall Oaks. I'm running them against the last of the plagas data from Spain. And the data that Suzuki left me regarding her research into Birkin and Klamp's gene therapy study."

Kevin nodded and leaned over her to watch the weird data flash across the screen. He narrowed his eyes and remarked, "...what's a "host genome"?"

Rebecca glanced at his face over her shoulder and laughed, lightly, "It's your DNA sequence, essentially. There's a thing in your DNA called a plasmid. It attaches itself to the DNA via the host organisms cell structure. Like...floating into the nucleus and...injecting the virus with proteins to cause disruption. The proteins sow the DNA together and create, in this case, an infected cell."

He looked a little surprised as he asked, "Like putting a ship in a bottle?"

Impressed, she smirked, "Exactly like that. This should take about an hour to run and tell us if what you found down here is connected to what we found at the concert or in Tall Oaks or Spain."

Kevin nodded and blew out a breath, "There's a diner down the road. You wanna grab some flapjacks or something?"

Rebecca passed her bag off to the tech beside her and moved to the ladder. "Sure." They reached the street level and the cold air was refreshing after the stench of the sewer. Kevin took a deep breath and Rebecca added, "We could get some breakfast at my place if you want. It's right down the road."

Kevin gave her a thumbs up, "Sounds good. You got any cereal actually? I'm in the mood for Fruity Pebbles or something."

"I do. But I don't have bowls." He gave her a confused look before she finished, "So you'll have to eat it out of my belly button."

He paused. She kept walking. He blinked.

And he finally replied, "You just come on to me?"

Rebecca tossed him a look over her shoulder, "No. But keep walking, Ryman. I'll come all over you."

He nearly swallowed his tongue, laughed happily, and jogged after her. "You are a dirty little thing, Dr. Chambers."

"I know. Come give me a bath."

He could  _not_ stop laughing. And he couldn't think of anything better to kill the time while they waited for the results of her analysis.

At least they knew that their fucking wouldn't bring about the end of the world.

Aloud, he queried, "You know anything about Helena's background before Tall Oaks?"

"Bits and pieces, why?"

"I think she's part of something bigger than this. I reallllly don't want to find out she's the cause. But I should show you the file someone gave me."

"Right now?"

"We're still on duty, right?"

"Nope. Mandatory lunch break."

He shook his head with a smile. At the door of her brownstone, she gripped the front of his shirt and drug him into her. "You wanna talk about Helena Harper? Or you wanna find something better to do with your mouth?"

She had a filthy fucking mouth. He sort of adored her.

His hand turned her knob, his other arm hooked around her waist to lift her, and he walked them backward into her house learning the language of her tongue.

In the shadows, the watching face of Ada Wong looked on with irritation. They weren't moving fast enough, by the time they got where she was leading them, it would be too late. Didn't they understand?

He was on borrowed time. If they didn't hurry, they'd be trying to save his  _corpse._


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** Italics in this chapter represent memories. (*1)

* * *

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**December, 2014–**

**Chapter Twelve:**

**The Lady and the Tramp**

* * *

**5:45 a.m. - Raccoon City General Hospital - Doctor's On-Call Room**

* * *

At first, he thought he was dreaming. It made sense, given everything else, to assume he was. But after a handful of seconds, he knew it was real. Her hand was around him stroking.

She'd undone his fly and helped herself to his softened dick while he slept.

He was hard as steel in her fist when he groggily regained consciousness. She tucked against his back, chewing softly at the slope of his neck. His hips humped into her eager little hand twice before he remembered it was a bad idea.

Hoarsely, Leon warned, "Aya...wait..don't _._.stop..."

Mixed signals apparently. Don't stop indeed.

It would help if he stopped himself, considering he was currently sliding their fingers together over his dick to help her fist him. She pressed kisses to his neck and nibbled his earlobe, ignoring him. Why not? He was ignoring himself.

He might have thought about the dream he'd watched the night before - if he wasn't busy burning up from the balls out. He rolled toward her. She made a happy sound and let him.

And she jerked up her skirt to welcome him between her legs.

He might have thought about the skirt being odd if he'd been anything other than sheer need.

Her hands clawed at his ass as he caught her under the knees to open her up. He gasped, roughly, "I don't-I don't have anything. We can't -"

"We can. Now." The voice was odd.

Why?

His brain hurt. He tried to lean away and the room spun. His gaze shifted over the window - the curtains were in mid ripple...frozen. Frozen? That wasn't right.

This wasn't  _right_.

Leon thrust a hand down to lodge at her groin, halting her. "...fuck...wait." His finger slid to the edge of her skirt. It tilted. It shifted. There was no wolf on her hip.

_No wolf._

"No waiting. Just fuck." She was too strong. Her mouth struck at his neck like a vampire and sucked. Her nails drove into his ass as she forced him into her. It didn't matter after that. She hooked her feet behind his flanks and arched toward him.

 _Wet_. She was wet. He couldn't think anymore.

His hands scrambled. They grabbed the heavy wrought iron railing of the headboard. He adjusted his hips toward her and just gave it to her. Her body opened, her mouth settled on his shoulder and sucked, and he plowed her while the bed creaked.

When she was too quiet, when she didn't urge him on, his hands shifted to turn her face up in the dark. He kissed her, seeking some kind of connection as he tried to split her in half, "...kiss me back, Aya. Please..."

She laughed, almost eerily, and moaned, "Aya?...no... _Eve_..."

What?

His brain snapped into place.

Eve.

_NOT AYA._

Leon gasped, "...no...damnit..." He stopped fucking her to try to get away. His head swirled like he was drunk and about to throw up. He felt ill.

But it didn't matter. He tried to retreat. He tried to pull out and she held him like an octopus, looping her limbs around him as he grunted and fought against her. She cooed, licking his mouth and his ears like a dog.

His hands shifted toward her throat. She laughed and rolled him to his back, strong, too strong. She kept on humping on him as she rolled, forcing herself onto his body even as she bound his hands above his head.

She held his hands suspended there with something he couldn't see as she slid off his pulsing body. Why couldn't he see!? She'd blocked all light in the room. And her mouth closed over his throbbing erection.

The body is a traitor sometimes. He was disgusted at the same time the warm cocoon of her mouth was welcoming. She sucked him like she'd kill him with it.

His body humped. He struggled, fighting against whatever she'd used to bind his hands. And he shouted, "GET OFF ME!"

But she suckled his eager body like a babe to a breast.

When she lifted her face, it was Aya. It was Aya going up and down on his thrusting groin. She clouded his brain, she used just enough teeth to excite him. She purred.

And his body gave her what she wanted.

He protested even as he came, shaking, denying, "...no...no no no..."

And she breathed, "...yes yes  _yes..." There was a wet sound that he couldn't place._

Her lips brushed his ear and she added, "Thank you. I'm done with you."

And the moonlight hit her face.

Not Aya... _Sherry Birkin._ She had a vial in her bosom filled with...what? His sperm!?

Horrified, Leon struggled beneath her, "Sherry?!"

"No... _EVE..."_ Her hands released his as she grabbed the pillow beneath his head and shoved it over his face. Seriously? Was she trying to smother him? Who did she think he was?

He couldn't dislodge her. The crazy bitch was still trying to fuck his soft junk while she killed him. But if there'd ever been a boner killer, this was it. His hand flailed out as he inhaled sharp cotton. By sheer strength alone, this monster was going to succeed where so many others had failed.

He refused to die after being rape bait for a hopped up two-faced witch on mutant steroids.

His hand closed around the holster he'd left on the floor. It slid against the gun there. It caught as his vision went spotty with lack of air. She was holding his legs down with her own. She had him pinned as she choked him to death with a downy pillow.

What a way for a "hero" to die! It was almost comic.

There was a rustle and shout beyond the door. It was muffled as someone called to him. He struggled with the holster, tugging on the gun. It inched into his palm, the door was kicked open so hard it hit the far wall with a clatter of sound, and Aya shouted, "LEON!"

Kevin called, "What the fuck!?"

And the gun in his grip was shoved up and into the ribs of the bitch atop him.

He pulled the trigger, someone else did too, and she was just - gone.

His bullet went clean up into the ceiling and splattered dry wall down on him as Leon gagged, trying to relearn how to breathe as he batted the damn pillow off his face. The room shook with an ensuing fight. The laughter of the fake Aya spilled around him as he rolled off the bed and hit the floor on his side with the gun aimed.

But it was over.

Sherry Birkin had poofed into thin air.

Kevin was on his face on the floor a few feet away.

Hoarsely, trying to breathe again, Leon gasped, "Ryman! Are you alright?"

Kevin groaned and tried to rise. But Aya was nowhere to be seen.

Crawling weakly to the couch to leverage himself up, Leon roared, " ** _AYA!_** "

But she was gone.

* * *

**5:55 a.m. - Raccoon City General Hospital - Rooftop Helipad**

* * *

They burst through the door nearly in tandem- the monster and the cop. It was snowing so heavily that the gusting wind blew flakes around in a swirling storm. She aimed as the floating form of Sherry Birkin reached the edge of the roof and levitated, turning to face her.

The face was so familiar. She'd felt it the first time she'd seen Sherry on television. Like she was looking into a mirror somehow. Why did Sherry Birkin resemble her?

But she didn't. Not now. Not anymore. Now? She looked like a monster.

As Aya had given chase through the hallways, the horrible thing that was Sherry had immolated everyone they passed. The screams would haunt her forever. It had to end. It had to end now.

It was the only way.

Aya shouted above the din of the howling winter wind, "SHERRY!"

And the mouth of Sherry Birkin returned, "No.. _.EVE_!"

Eve.

The name resonated in her head like bells. Why? What was Eve? Who was Eve? The first of mankind? But no. Impossible.

Aya aimed her gun at the floating form. Beautiful somehow still even though "Eve" was surrounded by a swell of blonde tentacles that had once been her hair. The ends of her arms had mutated, turning into fingers as thick and as long as an octopus and tipped by hooking claws. A bulbous blood shot eye flickered in her left shoulder, winking in the wind and yellow like she had jaundice. From beneath the red of her dress, a curling shiny blue tale slid free like the end of a eel. It whipped along the ground threateningly even as most of Eve floated easily above the empty sky.

Was she still a woman under the dress? There was no telling.

Aya shouted, "What have you done!? What have you done to all these people!? To me!? To my sister!?" The hitched further up, "To  _Leon!"_

Eve laughed, her green eyes twinkling, "I have freed him! I have opened him! I have helped him prepare for ascension! His death would have allowed what's inside him to  _ASCEND!"_

The voice was Sherry's but wasn't. It stirred with sibilant echoes that tickled the ears in the rising wind. Aya shouted back, somehow impervious to the cold, "He's not some fucking parasite! He's a man and you can't have him!"

Eve laughed again, spinning in a circle as she rose higher, "He is a vessel! He is the seed! He is both and all and everything...Aya...can't you  _feel_ him?! Let him inside you. Let him within you. Let him liberate you. I've felt him...beyond my body into my cells..." She slid her hand down her belly and against her crotch. Surprisingly, it was still present even though her thighs appeared to be nothing but scaly tail. "I have his seed now. What becomes of him? Will be up to him. He must  _let go_ and embrace the beauty of his own rebirth. Selected, as you were, evolved, as you will be...conceived..." Her hand rubbed again at her crotch, "And shucking the mortal coil..Evolution is what we become...is what we desire...we need it...to achieve  _liberation..._

Aya showed her teeth in rage, "I will liberate your mortal coil, you bitch!"

The shot was loud. It winged and landed. Surprised, Eve jerked back as it hit and threw blood in a fine red arc from the eye in her shoulder. The eye screamed, if eyes could, high pitched and pain. Eve hunched around the wound and hissed like a snake. Aya shot her again while she staggered.

Eve shouted, "You can't destroy me, you stupid fool! I am the  _mother!"_ Her claw swept out and slapped, smashing into Aya to send her sliding over the ground. The gun tumbled free as blood poured from a perfect hole above Eve's left breast.

She tilted her head, mockingly, and said, "We are one, Aya, why do you resist? Listen to your blood. Listen to your need. Evolve and join me. Your blood called to me...I heeded it. The others wait for you to accept, for you to ascend...so they may seek their liberation as well. Helena waits for  _you._ "

No.

Aya shook her head, struggling to her feet. "You  _lie!"_

Eve laughed again and spun in a circle, "Denial makes you weak! I didn't kill those people...it was Eve...but it wasn't me. I am the first, but I am not the only, Aya. You know it. You've felt it. It's why you touch him. It's why you turn from him. We're all Eve. We're all one. Mitosis, migration, impregnation. Relent. Spread your legs and accept. You've already begun. You're already on the eve of your destruction and rebirth. Become...Eve."

Aya grabbed for her gun, shouting, "No! I will _never_ be like you!"

Eve giggled and spun in the air, "You already are. You've always been. The _worst foe lies within the self..."_

Aya shot at her and Even knocked the bullet away to whine into the darkness. She shook her head and admonished, "You are me, Aya. We are one."

Aya tried once more and Eve slapped her again. The hit threw Aya to her side on the roof and sent her rolling as Eve spun off into the darkness and Aya picked up momentum and nearly went over the edge of the roof. "Find your power...or fall to it."

Aya heard her go. She tried to stop the skid, but it was too late. The edge of the roof was slick and sent her right over. With a shout of fear, Aya plummeted.

And the slap of skin startled her.

She was dangling by her hand off the edge of the roof while Leon shouted, "AYA! Grab on with your other hand! Hurry!"

Was Eve right? Was she the trigger? Had she...set all those people on fire? Was it her?

She called into the rising wind, "Let go! Let me fall!"

His face said she was crazy, "Shut up! You're slipping! REACH FOR MY HAND!"

She shook her head, "It's me! Leon, it's me! It's all me! I'm the reason! I'm the trigger! LET ME GO!"

His angry faced resonated in her head as he shouted, "If you're the trigger, you're the gun too! DON'T GIVE UP! You hear me?! We will stop her! We  _will_ stop this! Do NOT go out this way! I need you!"

Her heart stuttered.

That was it. That was the whole of it. Need. She was filled to the brim with it. The need to save her sister. The need to save the city. The need to save... _him._

What if he was right?

What if she was the gun? What if she was the weapon that could end everything? What if they just needed to learn how to use her? What if she left him alone and Eve finished killing him?

How could she rob the world of the one man who might very well save it?

Aya threw her other hand up to him.

The relief on his face was tangible. She laughed, shivering finally in the cold, "Some hero huh!? I chickened out of the big finale!"

From the darkness someone shouted, "Leon! BEHIND YOU!"

He started to pull her up...and above him the world shifted. The wind stilled. The snow stopped in mind swirl. Everything just - stopped. Eve rose above him, the tentacles of her left clawed fist reared back to drive down into his waiting back. It was minute, but the movement was there. It didn't stop...it  _slowed._

And Aya shouted, "No!"

There was a squeal of metal as the streetlight down below her burst free of the ground in a twisted spark of crackling broken electrical current. It flew, like a dart, fast and furious -whistling as it went. The claws were inches from Leon's back when it struck.

And impaled Eve directly through her chest.

The javelin style hit threw her back, tossing her away in the wind as Leon pulled Aya up and spun around. No thinking, he just...blocked her with his body. Eve zipped off into the darkness wailing, bleeding, and wounded. The snow closed around her retreating back until she was gone.

On the other side of the roof, Kevin and Bo were frozen in mid-run. Time had...retarded. It was like ultra slow motion. It was surreal.

On her knees, Aya turned her gaze to the man half crouched before her. He avowed, softly, "...it was you."

The wind whipped their hair around their faces. Aya said nothing, shivering. And he added, "It was  _you._ In the hotel, Aya. It was you. The books. The lamp. It was you."

She shook her head, "I don't know how."

He tugged her to her feet beside him, "We'll find the how. We'll figure it out. We need to go see Hans Klamp. We need answers."

Aya gripped his shirt as he started to turn away. She held him, scanning his face in the wind. "She looks like me."

Leon scanned her face. His mind made the leap that he should have made so long before. It found the truth in that one statement. Sherry Birkin and Aya Brea might as well have been sisters.

No...they might as well have been  _twins._

It was why even when the dream had split and he'd woken there beside her, he'd thought for a moment that the woman touching him was Aya. How? Why?

Leon pulled away from her enough that it hurt them both to feel it. He hated himself for it, but that didn't change the surge of disgust that came with knowing the truth - Aya and Sherry were connected by more than organs.

Aya's face collapsed in loss and pain. She felt the moment he pulled away from her..and it broke her heart because she had the face of a monster who'd used him, "...I tried to get to you! I tried to stop her! I'm so sorry!"

Sorry. He was sorry too. But none of this...none of it was their fault. Sorry? Sorry pissed him off. And hell hath no fury like a hero scorned. He'd be  _damned_ if he let the bad guys win. They had no idea who they were fucking with.

He shook his head. His hands grabbed her face to hold it. His voice echoed in the frigid air, "We'll stop her. Do you hear me? We'll stop her... _together_."

She clung to him, shivering in the cold.

And Leon stared into the driving snow as the rage beat in his head like butterfly wings.

* * *

**7:00 a.m. - American Museum of Natural History - Main Lobby**

* * *

They waited in silence for Hans Klamp's assistant to come and get them.

The AMNH had started life, possibly, as what was now the RPD, but that was never proven. Without a director source of what the RPD used to be, they could only speculate. But the similarities here were paramount.

Leon studied the T-Rex suspended over the massive deck in the ornate lobby. Its skeleton was frozen in mid-roar. Beneath the rampaging bones, a sign proclaimed:  **MEET T-REX: The Ultimate Predator!**

Leon tilted his head, considering. Maybe they'd need a goddamn T-Rex to stop "Eve". Whatever she was now, she wasn't really Sherry Birkin. Not anymore. The face was, the body might be similar, but the thing inside of her? It had killed Sherry the second she'd received its brain.

Huge marble pillars held up the spiral golden dome above it bringing your eye to the enormous recreation of the constitution that graced the wall behind T-Rex. A curious thing to look at what had once owned the planet to find what had once promised to unite all the people in "tranquility". Leon thought the forefathers might be rolling in their graves watching evolution turn man into a monster.

Aloud, he queried, "Maybe you were the man once. Maybe we're the monster."

T-Rex didn't answer. But did he really expect it too?

Of course, maybe "monster" was relative anyway.

Aya sat beside him on the bench. Her head was back, her hands stacked on her belly, her legs thrown out in front of her. Her neck was bruised and the side of her face was swollen. Eve had struck her twice when she'd tried to attack. Leon's teeth gritted at the sight, rolling his tongue over them to silence his anger.

It wouldn't help. It would likely upset her. And it wouldn't change anything.

She'd treated him like a victim after they'd left the roof. Like a woman whose dignity had been stripped by a man looking for power. He paused, considering the thought. Like a woman?

Like it or not, rape was often a man's crime against a woman. It just was. Statistically, men weren't often the victim. They just weren't. It wasn't a slight against the strength of women to admit.

Usually, rape was a man's weapon.

He was still trying to decide how it felt to know Sherry had used him.

Not Sherry... _EVE._

He was pissed off, but otherwise, he felt fine. Rape victims wouldn't ordinarily be coping this well, right?

Sighing, he leaned over to put his elbows on his knees and link his hands. To his surprise, they were shaking. A curious thing to know he wasn't as alright as he assumed.

Bitch. Once upon a time, his Grandpa had made sure he never called a woman that. But there was no other word for it. Well...maybe there was. But that one started with a C and wasn't nearly as polite.

What first she'd tried to take with lies, she'd finally claimed with force. The hate rolled in his guts for cowards that forced themselves on those who couldn't stop them. He'd been after killing her because it was his job because he believed in justice...because he believed it was what he was put here to do...now?

Now he was after revenge.

It wasn't noble, but it didn't need to be. It would get the job done and maybe twice as fast.

Aya startled him. She reached over to touch his linked hands and he didn't see her do it. His head was down, his hair obscuring his peripheral vision, and he just didn't sense her movement. She touched his tightly clenched fists and he jerked away, instinctively. The moment hummed harshly between them.

The shame settled at his nerve endings as he turned his head to her. "I-" He shook his head, "...I'm sorry."

She raptly shook her head, lifting her hand away from his. "No. It's my fault. I wasn't thinking. I won't touch you. I'm sorry I startled you. I just thought you looked so sad. Your knuckles were white. I just..." She trailed off.

Right. He'd been clenching his hands together so hard that they hurt. He was a liar. He wasn't alright.

But he would be.

He'd always wondered if he'd have children. He'd be damned if that bitch was going to be the first one to give him one because she'd stolen his sperm like a freak in a bad movie. He was going to enjoy killing her.

Even if her face was like the woman beside him.

Aya linked her own hands between her knees and said, "Am I a clone?"

Leon shook his head, returning, "No."

"How can you be so sure?"

He didn't know how he was sure. It was just gut instinct. He'd gone a long time listening to it. He did so now, "I just am."

"...is she my sister?"

He didn't look at her when he answered, "...probably."

Aya nodded. Her brother hitched - twice. She closed her eyes and took a hard breath, "My dad...he wasn't blonde."

Leon felt his jaw tighten, "...I know."

"...neither was my mother."

His hands clenched hard together again between his knees, "...I know."

What else could he say here?

Her voice cracked as she told him, "Helena...she doesn't look anything like me...does she?"

Now he looked at her. His hair fell in his eyes. She met them anyway and seemed so desperate for him to argue. He wanted to. He wanted to go back in time and spare Helena. He wanted to spare Aya. And Zoe Baker. And the rest.

But it was too late for that.

So he simply said, "...no."

"Helena's not my real sister."

Leon took a deep breath. He held her gaze, desperately trying to keep his calm, strong, supportive, "I don't think so."

Without a moment passing, she told him, "I'm sorry she used me to hurt you."

He didn't even let the thought pass between them for breath before he urged, gruffly, "You don't take the blame for her. For this. For any of it. Ever. Do you hear me? This is not your fault, Aya. I  _will_  find out who's behind this. I  _will_  stop them. It might get worse before it gets better. Can you take it? It's ok to back down. It's ok to say no here. I won't think less of you. A case like this...it's too close to home. It's about you. It's a mess. You could run, like Yoko. You could hide. Is that what you need?"

Aya declined that, sharply, "No. Hell no. No. I'll see it through. I have to."

"Are you sure? It might blow up in your face."

Aya nodded. Her lower lip trembled but she stopped it. He looked back at his hands. She put her face in hers and whispered, "What happens if she uses me as a conduit?"

Leon glanced at her, surprised, "I don't think she can. If she could, she'd have done it already."

Aya nodded, a little mollified, "Right. Maybe this guy has the answers."

They were about to find out. Hans Klamp was crossing the lobby toward them. The only way she knew that, is because Aya's brain tossed images up at her - sharp, snappy, fast.

She gasped and slapped a hand over her eye.

The eye was sending her memories.

The eye had met Hans Klamp before. It told her so. It whispered, " _...NEST..."_

Her voice was soft as she said, "...Leon...he knows Megan Pearce."

Curious, Leon glanced at her, "How do you know?"

Aya kept staring at Klamp as he approached and informed him, "Because she told me."

She finally turned her head to Leon as he kept staring at her. She stared back and said, "...I can hear her through my eye."

The moment she said it...she slumped forward into his surprised arms.

* * *

**N.E.S.T. - 1998 (*1)**

* * *

_"We need to shut it down."_

_William passed easily under the metal door as it beeped and rose, hissing mechanically, and offering the viewer a long glimpse into his inner sanctum. The bubbling warmth of the greenhouse was lost against the cool glass that kept his lab at an even fifty degrees. He touched the keys to open the sample chambers and the cold seeped out, stealing the breath of those unprepared._

_"You're panicking about nothing here, William. The orphanage will keep them distracted for months. They won't think to look in their own backyard. Wesker is already cleaning up the mansion incident. The S.T.A.R.S. involved are in dead or in custody. Burton was easy to silence with blackmail. Redfield was entered into the Nemesis program without any trouble. Valentine tested positive for the antibodies we needed to expand on the T-Virus...she's the first candidate in place for the Eve Agenda."_

_Klamp boosted himself up on the table while Wiliam tapped keys and created G-Virus samples._

_"You're panicking about nothing. Let me keep the lab open with a skeleton crew. I'm on the verge. Leave me enough G to test it on Valentine and the twins I'm using at the hospital."_

_"No," William shook his head as he transferred samples to the cooling case, "I need all my research for Sherry, Hans. All of it. I won't have you turning what life's work into your personal success. Valentine might resist the injections. What then? How will you control her? You have nothing. If she gets loose..." William shook his head, "No. Those girls...they're medical marvels. The single strain of mitochondrial evolution is remarkable. But it isn't enough. Eventually, they'll simple mutate and die. We know that. We've seen similar cases."_

_Hans shook his head, imploring, "I know. That's why I need G. I think if I infuse their tissues with G, they'll resist the inevitable evolution that mutates their bodies toward destruction. They won't over evolve, William. G will check the natural process at conception."_

_William paused, considering it._

_Hans said, softly, "The G-Virus will allow the evolution of at least one of those girls to produce the antibodies that Sherry needs to eradicate leukemia. You just need to keep her body alive long enough for those girls to grow. You know she's dying. She has a handful of months left. Preserve her until I can grow you the brain you need to save her life."_

_They held gazes for a long moment. Finally, William said softly, "Fine. But just one of them. Not both. I won't cost those parents both of their children."_

_Hans nodded, happily. "I won't fail you, William."_

_Birkin glanced out over the lab. "But no crew, Hans. Too risky. Just you. The rest of the crew...you'll have to sanitize them. You have a month to finish, and then I want the doors sealed and the NEST contained."_

_Hans nodded, studying his face. "You want me to activate the defense system?"_

_"Yes." William felt a pang of pain around his heart, "The truth must die down here, Hans. It's the only way for Sherry to live."_

_They moved across the narrow bridge spanning the enormous drop into nothing. The smell of cold and metal was thick in the air. The lab would be a tomb soon enough._

_But he'd have done anything to save his daughter._

_Megan Pearce was sound asleep as Hans shifted over to where she was contained in the safe room with her sister. Orphans they'd stolen from the orphanage, they had no family. So no one was looking for them._

_They were the perfect subjects._

_He leaned over her with a syringe filled with purple. "It's your birthday, Megan. I'm about to give you the gift of a lifetime."_

_He slid the needle into her waiting neck._

* * *

**8:11 a.m. Carnegie Hall- Upper Balcony**

* * *

They both stared at the statue of a woman with a snake curled around her belly. Her face was sly. Her eyes; damning. She clutched the serpent to her bosom and seemed to beckon a lover to lead her into sin.

Curious, Bo wondered, "It's too obvious right? Eve and Eve and Eve. It can't be this obvious."

In the apple clutched in her other hand, an opening waited. Kevin shook his head and remarked, "What the fuck have we got to lose?"

He put the little disk from the subway into the apple. Complete, the fruit spun clockwise in her palm. The serpent around her dropped away with a clatter of stone. And there was a tiny red jewel winking at them from the center of her exposed groin.

They glanced at each other and Kevin said, "Right. This one has jewels in her crotch. That makes perfect sense."

Bo reached for it and tugged it free, "Some might say that pussy is priceless, right?"

"Sure. Why not?"

They both stared at the little jewel. It was barely bigger than a marble. What was the point of it?

On the back, engraved in a tiny scrawl, was one word -  _Light._

They both shared a look.

And Bo sighed, "I wish someone would shine one on what the fuck we're supposed to do now."

Kevin rolled his eyes and started to pocket the little jewel when a beam of sunlight caught the edge. Bo was talking about getting breakfast as Kevin tilted the jewel into the full sun. The jewel threw prisms, it made a small hum, and it cast a shadow onto the wall in front of them.

Surprised, Bo stopped talking and stared. "What the hell is that?"

It was the Statue of Liberty- standing tall and strong with her torch held aloft. She beckoned the poor and hungry, she welcomed the tired, she offered sanctuary to those seeking refuge on foreign shores. She was a lady. A woman.

An EVE.

Did light mean "put it in the light" or did it mean "step into the light"? Was the answer in her torch?

He looked at Bo and said, "When was the last time you hung out with Lady Liberty?"

Bo shrugged as they hit the stairs and headed down toward his cruiser. "I couldn't say, man. Why? That tail tell you a tale?"

Kevin gave him a sly smirk and a shake of his head, "It told me a secret. Let's see if we can get the lady herself to tell us the truth."

* * *

 **Post Note: *1 -** **NEST**   **was a large subterranean laboratory located in the outskirts of Raccoon City that was operated by the Umbrella Corporation and administrated by Dr. William Birkin.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**December 2014–**

**Chapter Thirteen:**

**The Ultimate Being**

* * *

**8:15 a.m. - American Museum of Natural History - Office of Hans Klamp**

* * *

A painting of a prehistoric man was above a cluttered desk. Behind it, the weasley countenance of Hans Klamp tried not to sweat under Leon's direct stare. What was about it the other man that made the scientist feel like he was on trial for war crimes?

Stuttering a little, Klamp inquired, "I-I-I'm not entirely sure what you want me to say here, Director Kennedy."

"You can start by explaining why my partner is in the infirmary right now because she passed out the moment she saw you. You wanted her here, specifically, this morning. Why?"

Hans shrugged, looking nervous. "I don't know?" His German accent was thick and edged with tension, "What are you asking me?"

Leon tilted his head, "I'm asking you how the hell you knew Megan Pearce. And why the people who received her organs are all mutating into monsters."

Hans Klamp choked on the water he was drinking. "...w-what?"

"You heard me. What did you do, doc? You playing mad scientist? You better have your great moment of a villain giving a speech about his awful deeds, Klamp, and start confessing. Or next time I come down here, I'm bringing a team to take apart this office, and you, piece by piece."

Klamp wrung his hands nervously and tapped his wing-tipped shoes. He wore a lab coat over a natty little vest with a tie. He looked like stereotypical lab geek meets Adolf Hitler.

He looked terrified as he said, "Mitochondria is the beginning of life, Mr. Kennedy. What we've been able to do...it will change the world."

Leon leaned forward on the desk, staring him down. "You sniveling little turd...that psychotic witch you created killed hundreds of people and decided she'd use me as her own personal sperm bank. I'm about to burn your world down around your ears."

Looking excited, Hans gasped, "You...you...you're  _him."_ Hans hammered at the keys on his keyboard, "You're the one. The one exposed to the plagas? The one incubating the sample?"

Leon shook his head, "What does it matter?"

"It has to be  _you._ It has to be your sperm. She needs to pair the two strands. She needs the mitochondria without the male DNA...with only the nucleus. She needs it to be bonded to the plagas. She needs it...to make the _Ultimate Being_."

He said it was reverence. He said it with such excitement.

Leon gave him a cold glare, "The what?"

Hans rose from the desk. He moved around it, trembling. "There was always the chance that G and the mitochondria would...bond. There was always the chance that they'd seek the triumvirate to close off their completion. Plagas. A parasite as old as time itself. Together...they will abolish disease, they will create something beautiful, and pure...and perfect. The rest of the world will burn as she immolates it and sees who remains...don't you understand? She needed you. To free you. To find the perfect mate. But to do that? She needs you to let go of your humanity."

What did that even mean? More questions; no answers.

Hans tilted his head as he moved toward Leon, looking fanatical, "I would return, swiftly, to William Birkin, Mr. Kennedy. His daughter won't wait to return that sample to the one man who could make sure it produces the perfect result. You may already be too late to stop her from conceiving."

Leon backed up, shaking his head, "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying William Birkin may even now being inseminating his daughter with your washed sperm to begin the next stage of evolution. I wouldn't waste any more time with me. I've told you everything I can."

And then Klamp paused. He narrowed his eyes. He shook his head and he muttered, "...wrong? I can't be wrong. It's  _him._ Why-what? How?"

Klamp was nuttier than a holiday fruit cake, that much was clear, he was talking to himself in all kinds of gibberish and nonsense. Adding to it, Klamp hissed, "Impossible. There's only  _one._ "

Leon was already dialing his phone, "Kevin - get to the hospital. Now. I want William and Annette Birkin taken into custody. Now. Yesterday. They don't so much as fart without eyes on them. Get a unit out here to take Hans Klamp in for conspiracy to commit terrorist acts."

He started to turn back to inform Klamp to sit down and wait to be read his rights - and the sharp scalpel in the hand of the doctor sliced swift and deadly down the forearm that Leon barely got up to protect his face.

The blade cut deep and spilled blood in a wet splash.

All but foaming at the mouth, Klamp shouted, "IMPOSTER! THE ULTIMATE BEING MUST COME TO BE! STOP HIM!"

Leon swung to hit him and his arm was caught by something in mid-air. It shivered. His phone slid out of his limp hand. And he was slung backward into the wall by the desk with a clatter.

Klamp ran for the statue of Adam that stood with a smiling apple in his palm. He grabbed the apple and twisted. The wall lifted behind the statute to reveal a passageway.

With a sigh, Klamp said, sounding somehow sane again, "I'm sorry, Mr. Kennedy. But I must finish what I started. Don't kill him, alright? Not yet. He's not finished with his purpose. He's still  _lost._ "

Who was he talking to?!

The wall slid closed. The air popped with pressure.

And Hans Klamp was gone.

All that was left was a bleeding Leon, a horrible foreboding, and a grinning Adam...all at the mercy of EVE.

* * *

Leon was binding his arm with the sleeve of one of Klamp's lab coats when Aya opened the office door. The second she saw him, and the blood, she gasped and he assuaged, "Hey hey. I'm fine. However, Klamp is a piece of work. He's hiding out in his hole behind the statue. But I can't get the damn thing to open. I called for the building to be evacuated, just in case."

Aya shifted toward him. Hesitantly, she reached for his arm. Annoyed that what had happened to him had made them both nervous around the other, he put his arm in her hands with a vengeance. "I'm ok. I'll get it stitched up when we're done."

But she was staring at the bloody makeshift bandage. She swayed on her feet and he snatched her arm with his other hand, swiftly, "Whoa. Go back and lie down. You're not ok."

"I'm fine." She lifted her gaze to his face, "I'm great. The eye...it showed me Klamp and Megan. She was young. An orphan at the orphanage in Tall Oaks, the one you told me about."

Leon felt his eyes narrow as she added, "He brought her and Melissa here to experiment on them. I don't know much. There was a lab...Birkin was there. Megan was able to propel her conscious around the lab like a warg or something. She could see them, but she was sleeping. She didn't believe it was real until later in life. And even then, she just thought she was having bad dreams. It was her mitochondria, from birth or before that, she was already something special. He mentioned others - a Redfield? A Valentine? He talked about a man named Wesker."

She was busy staring at his arm and couldn't see his face. Each word lanced another edge of horror on his face. What she was saying...she was saying it was all tied together. Tall Oaks - the outbreak, the rumors about the mansion outside Raccoon City, the suggestion of Albert Wesker being involved. Simmons and Klamp and Birkin. How deep was it? How coiled were the snakes? How did he sort through it all to find the truth?

Who could he trust when everyone was lying?

Aya remarked, "You must have been off your game if he got a piece of you."

Leon nodded, studying her face as Aya undid his makeshift bandage and pressed her hand over his bloody arm. She winced at the damage, shaking her head, "This is deep, Leon, it's bad."

"It's fine. I've survived way worse. It's superficial." He shook his head, "Klamp...he said Eve. He knew about Eve. He said she's trying to create the "Ultimate Being". It's why she wanted my sperm."

Aya nodded and lifted her gaze back to his face, "I know. She basically told me that."

"She needs the sperm cleansed first, Aya. He's down there, right now, probably doing that for her. I need to get that stupid wall to open. There's gotta be another switch or a lever or a puzzle..."

Aya pressed her hand over his arm. Her hand was almost feverish, "Leon...look at me."

He did, glancing away from the statue. She said, "This will hurt. I don't know how..but I just know I can do this. Don't fight me, ok?"

"What?"

The pain was white hot. It hit his arm from her hand and burned like she was trying to immolate him. He jerked on his arm instinctively and she held it to her belly, binding him to her. She commanded, softly, "Look at me. Right here."

"...let go!"

She did. He staggered and stumbled, hitting the wall. Her handprint had left his skin pink where she'd held him. Like he'd taken a bath in water too hot and scalded himself a little.

He trembled, watching her.

But she said, "Look."

Leon slid his eyes down. The pink skin. The pale hair. The healed arm. No mark. No cut. No damage.

His eyes snapped up to her face and she nodded, watching him quietly, "It's growing. What I can do? It's growing quickly. This time...I  _knew_ I could do that. I knew."

They held gazes for a long moment until she finally uttered, "...Eve."

"I know."

"No.." She turned and glanced around the office, "The statue is Adam...where's Eve?"

A good question. Leon spun, looking with her. They check everywhere. But wherever Eve was, she wasn't in this office. Annoyed, Leon theorized, "If you were Klamp, where would you hide the other entrance to your secret lair?"

Aya shook her head and laughed, "Where else? In plain sight."

They moved quickly through the hallways to the main lobby. T-Rex judged them as they ran. People turned to see what the commotion was but they didn't stop.

Eve was waiting beside the constitution beside a drinking fountain. Shaking her head, Aya grabbed the snake wrapped around her nude belly. The statue clicked and the wall beneath the drinking fountain slid open.

Leon went through first, pulling his pistol. There was an etching along the side that caught Aya's gaze as they moved. What did it say? Ghost? Curious, she stored it away to ask him about it later.

They crouched and moved quickly, emerging into a full-blown lab.

It had beeping lights and beakers. It was equipped with screens with constantly running data. Tiny mutants were tucked into jars and test tubes suspended above a steel floor.

Klamp was in the middle of swiftly typing into a large machine that looked like a crane. It was suspended above a glass tank filled with vials. He was muttering as he worked.

The hammer of Leon's gun was loud, "Get on your face, now. Before I turn you into a puddle."

Klamp didn't stop. He shook his head. His muttering was that of the insane as he reiterated, "She needs it. Don't you understand?" He turned toward them and the device in his hand had Leon lowering his. "Yeah. You know this?"

Aya spoke first, surprising him, "It's a homemade boomer."

"Yes. Simple really. Child's play. They made them in Vietnam and called them toe poppers."

Aya soothed him, saying, "Doctor Klamp...I need you to tell me what she needs. I need to know."

Klamp tilted his head like he was listening to a voice they couldn't hear. But he replied as he backed up toward the tank in the center of the room. "Science is god, Ms. Brea. It's god in the numbers, in the purity of creation. Eve...she's going to change the world. She's going to make it worth all the pain and sorrow. No more poverty or crime or senseless wars...just perfect beings. Just peace."

Leon shook his head, the gun in his hands useless now, but he couldn't bring himself to holster it. "What is it with you megalomaniacs and world domination? The world isn't perfect, you idiot, but neither is life. Life evolves on its own. Science should support life, not look to eradicate it. That's not peace, that's terrorism."

Klamp twitched as if a fly had landed on his shoulder. "You like that word, Mr. Kennedy? I know that's what you do, challenge those who would change the world for the better. You and those like you, you attempt to halt the inevitable evolution of mankind. What would the world be like if man hadn't replaced T-Rex? Life evolves, but it needs help sometimes to find its way. Science is a guide. To lead it onward through the darkness of stagnant loss."

Leon licked his teeth as he tracked Klamp toward the tank. "Saddler thought that too. Ask Eve what happened to him."

Klamp paused, eyes widening. "I know what happened to Saddler. I mourned. Revolutionaries are never accepted without a fight, Mr. Kennedy. Chaos is what creates."

Aya had never heard the tone that came from Leon as he answered, "You bad guys, you think you're saying anything new here? Chaos is what destroys. You think I'll stand here while you try to harness it? Don't you understand? Chaos can't be controlled, Klamp. It will destroy you too."

Klamp shrugged, smiling lightly, "A death to bring about the ultimate being? I'm ok with dying. I've done my job. I've given her what she needs." He studied Aya for a moment and added, "You are resisting...why? You shared blood. You shared cells. Why don't you become what you are meant to become?"

Aya shook her head, desperately trying to think of a way to get him to tell her what they needed. "Humans aren't made to become, Klamp. I'm not like her. I'm human."

"Human nature is a mystery to me. It makes us...weak. It defines our failures. Derek Simmons was a man with human needs. His obsessions nearly cost us everything."

Leon clenched his jaw, "How did you know Simmons!? What did you have to do with Tall Oaks?"

Klamp slid his palm against the button on the tank. He didn't answer. Did they really think he would?

Aya glanced up at what was held inside. Her belly tightened in fear. Leon, voice trembling in rage, warned, "Don't do it, Klamp. I swear to god I will make it my personal mission to send you to hell to roast beside Osmund Saddler and Derek Simmons."

"Will you? You're just a mortal man, Mr. Kennedy. A gifted one, sure, but eventually the parasite inside you will take away that wonderful nobility your court so perfectly. Then? You'll be just like what you've been fighting for so long. Poetic justice, no?" He turned his gaze to Aya and smiled, so softly, "Let go, Ms. Brea, of what binds you to this world. You're so much more than the man beside you. Together? You would be unstoppable. Release yourself, release him. The flesh...it's failing you both. Don't you understand? What's worth saving here? This world...it's already lost."

He hit the button on the front of the tank as he rolled behind it for protection. And he called, "The room is filled with pure oxygen, Mr. Kennedy. Using your gun would be...deadly."

The tank held a familiar face in an unfamiliar shape. The liquid drained as the lights swirled around them. Leon backed up and said, with feeling, "Aya...Don't let him hit you."

"What?"

"He'll turn your bones to dust. Don't let him hit you. Don't let him out into the museum. Or all these innocent people are dead."

The tank whooshed as it opened. Aya raised her gun and Leon shook his head, "No! You'll blow us up with him. The gun powder will spark and turn us into a smear on the wall back there. We need that boomer that Klamp had. We need to hope like hell he left it."

"Won't that...kill us too?"

"We'll lure it away before it does that. Go that way. Away from me. Divide its focus."

Aya glanced at Leon and back at the thing stepping from the tank. Why was he so afraid? It was just a pale-faced man in a trench coat. Huge, sure, but not the scariest thing he'd ever faced, surely.

She queried, "What is it?"

He shook his head, gesturing for her to go left and separate from him, "...it's a tyrant."

And she remembered what she'd read about the tyrant.

She asked, buying time, "He has a heart or something on his shoulder? Right?"

Leon glanced at her, backing up as the tyrant ducked free to greet them. He tasted copper in his mouth that was fear. After all this time, he could still be scared shitless. Great. Super.

Frick.

"Not this one. Just try to keep his back to me, ok? Trust me."

"...you want me to play bait!?" Aya moved around the desk as the tyrant turned toward her, stalking her. Leon circled behind it and answered, "Yep."

Great.

Aya whistled and did some kind of jig. Lord. Leon felt his mouth twitch. She was something else. Did she think the dance would amuse it? Maybe she'd start slinging jokes at it.

A dirty limerick or two and some juggling.

Leon holstered his gun and drew his knife, keeping himself in its blind spot as it circled, trying to keep both Aya and Leon in its sight.

Leon nodded to Aya as she chucked a stapler at it and beaned it between the eyes.

Ok. Hah. Well, maybe not  _that_ much of a distraction. Because now the tyrant was PISSED.

It upended Klamps whole desk to go after her. It threw the desk into the wall in a clatter of sound so loud it made Aya jump. She hit it again between the eyes with a cup full of pencils while she backed into the wall. She was proving that she was aces under pressure.

She didn't miss.

Impressed, Leon remembered that was one of the reasons he'd hired her. What had her reports said?  _Agent Brea is an accomplished marksman._ _She successfully utilizes both short and long distance weaponry with exemplary skill._

Hell on wheels with makeshift weapons or not? She was about to put that skill to the test. She gave it her best shot. She hit that bastard twice more without missing with a tape dispenser and an empty beaker.

But it didn't matter anyway. The tyrant was too fast. It grabbed her around the throat and raised her to eye level. She punched it twice in the throat while she struggled. It drew back its arm to throw her.

What was it with tyrants and throwing people? Didn't they understand there were other ways to fight? He whistled and taunted, loudly, "You don't make friends by tossing them away, pal. Didn't your masters teach you any manners?"

Apparently, Aya thought while she choked, he was the guy who tossed insults at monsters before he fought them. What had Helena said that time?  _His sarcastic wit is almost as entertaining as his style._

Leon took a running leap at the overturned desk, used the filled tank beside him like a springboard, and launched himself onto its back. It half chucked Aya away to roll along the ground as it reached for Leon over its back. Like an acrobat, Leon drove the knife into the side of its head, kicked his boots into its back, and shoved off before the thing could grab him. The knife ripped free in an enormous spray of blood, Leon kick flipped out into a skid, and Aya stared at him for a moment.

He glanced at her as the tyrant staggered and went to one knee. "...what?"

"...who  _are_ you?"

The tyrant reversed with a bleeding head like it was nothing. Aya whistled when it raced for Leon, kicked a chair up into her hands, and threw it at the racing back. The tyrant roared, spun to come for her, and Leon used the wall like a trampoline. Aya was starting to think he was half frog. He tipped a chair as he used it to propel him up onto the wall. He bounded off the wall and tackled the tyrant from behind. His arms hooked around its throat as it tossed around as if it were a raging bull.

Aya saw the moment it figured out he was going to stab it again. He brought that knife in to go for its throat and the tyrant drew its fist back to punch him in the face for the effort. Aya shouted and ran toward them.

He said bullets would kill them all.

But a punch to the face from a thing big enough to lift a tank? He'd cave in that beautiful face in a single moment. Aya threw out her hand and watched the world slow down. The fear didn't even have time to settle in. It was just her versus the thing in mid-swing. She shouted, "Leon! GET DOWN!"

The desk rumbled and took flight. It flew toward the rushing knuckle sandwich that had slowed to a crawl, Leon let go of its neck, and the desk met the fist that would have obliterated his face. Wood splintered and flew, the world rushed back as if someone had hit fast forward, and Aya tackled Leon in the side as he landed.

The foot the tyrant kicked at him missed them by a millimeter. It whooshed the air where they'd been. They hit the ground with Aya rolling him beneath her to protect him. Leon skidded into it, slung her up and over him, and Aya rolled out of the move like an acrobat.

The tyrant tried to smash him into the floor even as he rolled himself up and out into a pretty impressive handstand. The tyrant swung that fist again as Aya kicked the tank beside him hard enough to smash a hole. It sprayed liquid all over the monster.

Whatever the liquid was? It burned where it struck. The tyrant recoiled, rubbing at its face. But something else horrible happened..something he wasn't ready for. The tyrant? It just...started to mutate. It jerked like it might have a seizure and where the liquid hit, the tyrant's skin burst with pus-filled boils. Its ugly face roared...and sprouted a second head in a burst of blood and bone. It grunted and something split its back open like a zipper. The bones of its back spit out and flew like darts, pinging and popping into the walls and ceiling.

What emerged from his back wasn't a plagas. It wasn't like the giant in Spain. It wasn't even close. It was half bat, half rat, half nightmare. It squealed and sprayed spittle from a mouth opened wide in a wail of rage that shook the walls. There was the face of a human in there somewhere. It looked like a melted ball of flesh and rot and horror.

It smelled worse like tuna and rotten eggs and bodies floating in the river for days on end in high summer. It was death and dying and rot and rising again. It was so bad that Leon actually gagged.

Aya backed up and shifted her hand to her nose. "It smells like the bathroom after a chili cook-off!"

She was something else. In the middle of horror so wide it was terrifying, she'd cracked a joke. He could do no less. She was afraid, but she was hanging in there. "How about we flush him like the turd he is."

Leon spun a back kick at the tank and it burst completely spraying glass and fluid. He caught Aya around the middle as it gushed toward them. The liquid hit her arm and burned right through her coat. She gasped, Leon jerked it off her to throw it away, and the tyrant stumbled toward them with his face covered in blistering welts.

Leon flipped the knife in his hand and braced, lamenting, "This guy is more relentless than a bad date that just won't end."

Aya shook her head. His humor was comic book hero bad...she  _loved_ it. She added, "And just about as ugly."

With a laugh, he raced toward the fallen monster, calling, "I got this. We're losing him, Aya. GO AFTER KLAMP! GO!"

"...Leon...I do-"

"Trust me, kid. I'm better with monsters than assholes..." He paused, twitched his mouth and added, "...and also dialogue. GO!"

How did he manage to make her laugh when they were so desperately screwed? He was...kinda incredible.

Turning, Aya raced through the small open door Klamp had used beyond the tanks. She didn't have much hope to reach him. She didn't like leaving Leon with an indestructible monster. But what choice was there?

She ran through the small tunnel listening to her feet echoing. She was near to the end when she heard the sound behind her.

Leon was leading it. She could hear him taunting it as he ran, "Yeah, you big stupid butthead! You look even uglier with brains leaking out your ears! Of course, it couldn't hurt you, could it? You're already as dumb as you are useless! I'd be pissed off too if I looked like the back end of a baboon."

Did it do any good to taunt a monster?

The tyrant roared so loud it shook the tunnel. Aya stumbled as she hit the door at the end. Locked.

Horrified, she blasted the lock. The bullet pinged off uselessly into the tunnel. She kicked the door. Once. Twice. Again. She rammed it with her shoulder -and Leon came barreling around the corner.

He saw the door. He saw her horror.

He knew they were dead. He had to. He shook his head...and winked.

Really!?

But he spun back. He dropped. He rolled like a bowling ball or something at the rushing beast behind him. He tripped the barreling tyrant. The thing hit the wall. The thing rebounded. It roared.

And he kicked it from the hip as he gained his feet.

"GET DOWN!"

She ducked. The tyrant swung.

And its arm cleaved the door right from its hinges.

Leon kicked it again and sent it smashing through the shattered door.

Impressed, Aya pushed into the cold after it. They were on the roof again. The roof was where Eve liked to make her wild displays. But Eve wasn't there. Just Klamp.

Just Klamp and that bomb in his hand.

He shouted, "A fitting end for me! Like Frankenstein, killed by my own creation! Agent Brea...why do you refuse to become what you are destined to be? Why do you fight?"

She shook her head, aiming her gun at him. "People protect their world, you have to know that! I will never stop fighting!"

Klamp tilted his head, watching her as the tyrant swung at Leon and the other man ducked and rolled. "Him? If he fights, he'll never free himself. His flesh is useless. What good does it do to covet him? He will DIE! That shell you covet will age and necrose...you are so much more than that."

Like he'd engineered it, the tyrant landed his hit with that massive arm. It caught Leon in the chest and side and sent him out like it was nothing. One hundred and eighty plus pounds of muscle just smacked into the air without any effort at all.

Aya shouted in fear but watched Leon recover, roll and miss the stomp aimed at his face, as he jerked his hips, humped his body, and got back to his feet. Adrenaline - sometimes it saved your life. She cried, 'Stop this, Doctor! You can stop this! Please! It's not too late!"

The rat bat thing on its back lunged at him wailing and Leon stabbed it twice in the chest, flipped back three times, and shouted, "Enough moments of the great plot reveal here, Klamp, drop the bomb and end it!"

Klamp shouted, "...I'll take you all with me!" He whistled two high pitched notes. The tyrant stopped trying to kill Leon and turned toward him.

Klamp nodded and called, "That's right..come for me...I'm ready. Look what you've become! The virus...the mitochondria...the beauty of transformation. You are  _truly_ a magnificent homage to greatness."

The tyrant raced at him, Klamp bellowed, "I've done what I can for you! I've served you well! RELEASE ME!"

Time was a crazy thing. It seemed to slow down until the world was snowflakes and fear and fire. Klamp went up like a Christmas tree, Eve immolating him on the spot as the tyrant struck him with those claws. They spitted him like a shish kabob. He burned. The tyrant caught fire as they touched and roared. The thing on its back wailed in pain and threw spit like acid around it as it flailed.

And the bomb fell from his hand.

Aya shouted, loud, "OH MY GOD!"

She turned back, she tackled Leon as he was running from the far side of the roof like he'd..what? Tackle the bomb that had gone down? He was too brave sometimes.

She took them into the tunnel instead. They went down with her atop him. They slid on his back with his hands grabbing for her to hold her to him.

And the bomb went off.

The  _WHOMP_ of pressure smashed them down like they were a house of cards. They rolled so fast and hit the wall. Leon took it. He took the wall against his back as they hit. She heard it, she felt it, she grabbed his face and shouted, "ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!"

He was unconscious.

Terrified, she tried to drag him with her out of the tunnel. He was too big. Too muscled. She shouted, desperately, "HELP ME! Leon! Wake up!" They'd never make it. They'd never make it.

And the fire raced down the hallway toward them.

She'd stopped the fire once by climbing atop him. She did so now, crouching in front of him in the hallway like a shield. His eyes flickered where she'd leaned him against the wall. He saw the wall of fire racing for them.

He grabbed for her.

And the fire hit them.

Where she crouched, it opened as a door might. It went around them like Moses parting the red sea. It split and circled them in heat and light. But it didn't burn. He couldn't even move. He just sat there like some kind of lump on a log.

He stared at her as the fire raced and roared, burning where it touched, obliterating. The ceiling cracked and split. The walls peeled and burst. The floor charred and blistered. When the floor was gone...it didn't matter. They just...floated. They floated in a bubble like it was nothing.

He couldn't even find the words as the bubble drifted away from the flames. It circled twice and just...plopped them down in the snowy street away from the burning building. The firefighters were already on it, dousing the blaze. Klamps homemade boomer had destroyed the right upper side of the building. But the damages were contained.

Most of the patrons had been evacuated before the blast.

The ones who hadn't been were dealing with smoke inhalation, but they were alive.

It could have gone a lot worse.

In the cold alleyway, the silence was almost as bad as the blaze above them.

They stared at each other in the dreary gray air.

Softly, Aya murmured, "...I don't know how I do it."

Leon shook his head, watching her. "We need to find out. Under direct pressure, you seem to...manifest powers. Threat brings it out. Like a defense mechanism."

She nodded, licking her dry lips. "I'm sorry. I know it's...unnerving."

"Nothing unnerves me anymore, kid. Seriously."

"Even partners with monster powers?"

He rose and put his hand down to her. She took it and they both stood for a moment with those hands linked. Finally, he answered, "You just saved my fanny back there. I ain't complaining."

"It's a fabulous fanny." Her mouth twitched.

His did too. "Thanks. I work out."

"Clearly." She laughed, shaking her head, "She has your sperm."

Lord. Did she just say that out loud? It sounded so stupid. Leon blew out a harsh breath, "Yep. You think the kid will have my penchant for witty one-liners?"

Aya shook her head, stroking a hand down his bloody jacket front. "You are something. How can you joke now?"

His hands shifted to her face. He turned it up to him. They stared at each other until he answered, forcefully, "Now's the best time. The best. It's not over. She clearly has no idea who she's tossed her hat in the ring against. I don't quit. I won't stop. And she won't win."

She shook her head, softly, "What she did to you...and me...I look like her. I look like her. Do you-"

He stopped her. He denied that with a shake of his head. "It doesn't matter. Not now. Will you try to use your powers to help me? It's a lot to ask, I know that. But it might...it might be the difference here. I know if we figure out a way, we can stop her. We can do this. Will you try?"

He moved her. His drive was unparalleled. She  _believed_ him. Because you couldn't stand in his presence and do anything less.

Aya curled her hands into his jacket. "You don't need to ask me that. Ever. This isn't on you. It's on me. It's on  _me._ We need to figure out how."

"Yeah, we do. What if the thing in me cancels out the one in you?"

A curious thing to say. Aya tilted her head at him, "Like using our parasites to...what? Have a fight and see who wins?"

He shrugged, licking his teeth, "I don't know. But we need someone to give us answers. We need to talk to Birkin. Maybe there's a way to use the dreams to find her. Maybe...I don't know. There's gotta be a way. Like, a metaphysical homing device. Supernatural sonar? Something. Maybe there's a way to harness what is in me too. He kept saying free myself. How? I need to know the answer."

Aya shifted. He hadn't let go of her face. Her hands slid up his jacket to the collar. The soft brown leather whispered as she gripped the heavy furred brim. "Are you alright? You can...it's ok to just...stop, Leon. Just stop. And breathe."

_And think about a monster using his sperm to create the perfect killing machine._

He denied it, letting go of her to turn away. "No. Not yet. She won't wait, Aya. And we don't know how long it will take for her to gestate if she conceives."

Aya watched him go. He walked stiffly on one side, telling her he was hurt and hiding it. It made sense. He'd hit hard enough to knock him out. She knew he'd resist if she offered him sympathy, so she simply followed him out into the madness.

Hell or high water, he didn't stop. He was so much more than every whispered word of praise she'd ever heard about him. Just a man. Just a mortal man. But he was better than Hercules to her.

How long had she known him? Two days? She had feelings for him. Real ones. Not ones brought on by monsters. If there was a way for them to be together, if it made them stronger instead of weaker...would she try?

She watched him put a hand on the wall beside him and lower his head for a second to gather himself. Strength wasn't just about parasites and monsters, it was about men who always, always, always got back up. He was that - the guy who never gave up.

It didn't take a parasite inside of her to make her want him. That? That was all his fault.

She didn't just want to touch him or taste him or watch his eyes as they merged...she wanted to  _be with him._ To be his. For him to be hers. She had feelings for him that were nothing at all about how he looked. It was about how he  _lived._ Fully. Dedicated. With hope.

It was the first time she'd been able to even imagine herself with anyone since Kyle...if they didn't turn into monsters before she could find out what that meant.

And he stopped seeing her as the monster who'd raped him.


	14. Chapter 14

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**December 2014–**

**Chapter Fourteen:**

**The Masks we Wear**

* * *

**8:45 a.m. -The Statue of Liberty - Torch Balcony**

* * *

It was cold. It was brutal. It was almost a bust. But the Lady of Liberty gifted them with the ability to look beyond her beautiful façade.

She might have been lady luck instead.

Freezing, Bo crouched down and touched the button hidden at the base of her torch. It made a whirring sound. It lit up bright and yellow. It blazoned and pulsed like fire.

He rose. He and Kevin stared at each other hunched in their coats against the heavy bitter breeze. The light pulsed and shimmered. The torch flickered happily.

And nothing happened.

Aloud, Bo wondered, "That it?"

There was no answer. There was no reason to feel a flicker of fear either. But as he studied the pulsing light of the lady standing guard over the weary, he wondered what truths she still had left to show them.

After a second he dropped the cigarette he was smoking and shouted, above the wind, "You know morse code!?"

Bo gave him a blank look, "Should I?"

Kevin shook his head and returned, "Record this shit on your phone."

"Why?"

"Because the lady is sending a message."

Impressed, Bo laughed, "To whom?"

"I don't know. But we're damn well gonna find out. Might be the first time in history that I actually listen when a woman talks."

Bo laughed and kept on recording.

* * *

**11:16 a.m. - Raccoon City Police Department-BCU locker room -**

* * *

The first heated spray hit his face and nearly had him collapsing against the wall. He hurt. It wasn't just soreness from being slapped around. He  _hurt._ Leon looked down at the bruising across his side.

It was already the ugly purple and pink of inflamed muscle and crushed connective tissue. He poked it and hissed, hating the ruptured capillaries near the skin's surface that felt the need to escape and leak beneath the protective flesh. His whole left side and part of his back were a mess.

He'd wrenched his hip at some point as well and was limping like an old man. He was sore, tired, and scared. He was scared. Because that tyrant had turned into something that wasn't T-Virus related. Whatever had come from its back wasn't T. It couldn't be. What had Klamp said? Mitochondria.

What did that mean?

More questions.

He drilled his fist into the wall in anger.

When did the questions have answers?

Klamp was dead. Eve had the sperm. Melissa Pearce was still in the wind. Birkin was in custody but he wasn't talking. They had nothing. Nothing.

He was tired of having nothing.

There was the echo of the door of the locker room opening. He put his face in the spray and let it try to beat the fatigue away from behind his eyes. Figuring it was Kevin, Leon called, "We hear anything back from the proprietor of Carnegie Hall?"

Kevin called back, "Yeah. He has no clue about the statue or the jewel. The blueprints don't say dick. The building was originally built by a man named Ashford. I'm trying to figure out what he has to do with anything...but I gotta tell ya, man, the connection to Umbrella is damning. If I can figure out what message Lady Liberty is sending, I might be closer to finding out whose ear she's whispering in."

Leon soaked his eye sockets in the spray and returned, "I know it. See if you can tie Ashford to anyone with the organs. But I'm betting it's gonna be further back than that. How deep is this rabbit hole?"

Kevin returned, "As deep as your Mom when I finished drilling her last night."

"Lame. You're better than that."

Snorting, Kevin answered, "True. I'm fucking tired. I need a nap, dude."

Leon laughed softly. After a moment of soaking his face in the spray, he called, "Me too. Anything back on the DNA results I had Rebecca send off for?"

And a voice answered, "Not yet."

Not Kevin. Kevin must have left without saying a word. That was pretty much his M.O. But just to be sure, "Kevin out there?"

"Nope. Just me."

Aya.

He had a moment of something like fear in his guts. It actually pissed him off. What was he afraid of? That she'd rape him? He thought about that for a moment. Was he afraid of her? Because Sherry Birkin shared her face?

Another mystery without an answer.

But this one was simple: no. He wasn't afraid of her. He was afraid of hurting her. He was afraid of what was happening to her. He was afraid he'd never be able to stop it and she'd turn or die or end up in a coma. He was afraid that he'd touch her and see the bitch who'd used him. Because of that face?

Yeah. Maybe. Yeah.

And he  _hated_ himself for it.

What was worse?

He was more afraid he'd touch her and only see her. And what then? What? There wasn't time in his world, in his life, in their situation for love. There wasn't time for any of that.

Leon paused and considered the thought. Not lust...love. He'd used that word: love. Did he think he could love her?

The same three answers: Yeah. Maybe. Yeah. The only responses he had lately for anything.

And that was scarier than anything else.

He didn't let people into his life he could love. Love made you weak. It made you stupid. It made you braver...better...faster. Damnit. Love was a double-edged sword. Love was the thing that drove people to the brink of madness and miracles since the dawn of time.

What if he fell in love with her...and failed her?

Terrifying.

Voice gritty, he answered, "You often peep on guys in the shower?"

When she didn't answer, he assumed maybe she'd left. Maybe she'd gotten what she needed and gone. But she finally replied, "I'm waiting out here. I didn't peep. I thought about it...but with everything..." She trailed off.

He sighed and rubbed his face. The towel on the hook beside the shower was easily draped around his waist as he killed the water. He padded out of the shower into the break room.

She was sitting on the bench by a row of lockers with her hands clasped between her knees.

She'd put on that heavy gray sweatshirt and some jeans. Her hair was in a loose lazy braid that had lost tendrils to curl around her face. The boots on her feet were black and scuffed and well loved.

He turned to his locker and opened it, reaching inside for a stick of deodorant. "I'm not fragile, Aya. I'm not gonna shatter if you peep at my junk."

She lifted her head to glance at him. Water had beaded on his face. He had enough of a shadow of stubble on his cheeks and chin to be suitably disheveled. His hair was slicked back off his forehead and dripping down his back as he applied deodorant to his armpits.

He had nice calves and legs. Strong. Muscled. His washboard stomach was, as always, ridiculous. If she hadn't been staring at the towel and sorta hoping it fell off while he was moving, she would have noticed the bruising sooner.

With a gasp, Aya rose off the bench. "... _Leon..."_

He turned toward the locker to grab a white t-shirt from inside it. "I'm fine."

"You didn't say a word. We helped the relief workers. We were there for hours. Jesus...look at you."

He wasn't sure what it was. Maybe it was stress. Maybe it was fatigue. Maybe it was fear. Whatever it was, it had him throwing the stick of deodorant in his hand back into his locker, hard.

It clanked on the metal and made her jump as he turned toward her and accused, harshly, "I'm tired of you looking at me. Sick of it! I'm tired of you touching and tempting me and waking up to find you on top of me...but it's not you. It's not even close. Wanting you? I hate it. It hurts me. It's worse than this stupid bruising because I can't stop it. It won't go away. I thought she was you. I thought that. And by the time I knew I was wrong, it was too fucking late."

She winced. Because he didn't use language like that. He was vibrating with such rage. Her heart hurt looking at him. She whispered, softly, "...I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say."

Leon denied that as well. He turned away to grab his shirt again and ball it up in his fist. "It's not your fault. Ok? I know that. I meant it. I don't see her when I look at you...I saw  _you_ when I looked at her. I saw you. And I hate that even when I knew it wasn't you...I just kept pretending it was because at least then? Then I'd get to have you."

Well...that was out there now.

If this hadn't been the worst possible time, it might have been the most important. She'd never, in all her life, felt like she did when she heard him say it. Her heart just - stopped. Her breath seized in her lungs.

The way he talked about her...she'd never had a man speak about her like that. Even Kyle, who'd loved her, had never spoken to her with such desperate longing. How much was the man and how much was the monster?

She'd cut off an arm to know the answer.

He said, angrily, "I'm not a guy who pines for a woman. I don't know who I am around you."

Aya took a step toward him, stopped, and took another one. "...look at me."

He shook his head: no. "I can't. I want you to go. Ok? For now, just go. Go find Bo. Go see if you can help dig up information on Zoe Baker. I don't want you around me. I don't want to want you anymore. I don't want to stand there and picture what happened to me and have to deal with the disgusting truth that I wanted it to be you. So just...go away, Aya. Please."

She hesitated. She understood it. Like a victim, he was reacting with shame and remorse and anger. It was ok. She could take it. She felt the stifled frustration herself. It was coupled with the knowledge that being together was complicated by what they couldn't control, what they didn't understand, and what they were starting to feel for each other on their own. A painful place to be.

He was in so much pain. She couldn't stop some of it.

Other parts of it? She could take that away.

Quietly, she said, "I'll go. I'll go and stay gone. I'll do that..."

He braced his hands on the locker and lowered his head. She watched his biceps flex like he was doing a push-up and she added, "But I can't leave you like this. You're wounded. You're hurt. Let me help you...you know I can. Let me do this for you. Please."

He glanced over at her. His hair tumbled into his face. Aya licked her dry lips and held her hands out to him, empty. Unarmed. But the greatest weapon wasn't a gun. It was whatever was inside of her.

And they both knew that.

She held her hands open, palm up, and queried, "What's Ghost?"

His brow furrowed as he tried to follow the change in conversation, "What?"

"Ghost." She gestured to the gun tucked into his locker. The whole barrel was visible. It wasn't just ghost. It was Silver Ghost. He glanced down at it and back at her as she added, "Silver Ghost? Is that what you named your gun?"

He picked it up, ejected the magazine, and drew back the slide in a single set of movements. "...there's a guy here in Raccoon named Joseph Kendo. He's kinda like...Smith and Wesson for the locals."

She was quiet, hoping the talking would soothe him.

He added, "When I graduated from the Academy, my Uncle had this made for me. My nickname in the agency was Ghost...because I just..." He shrugged and snapped the magazine back in the gun, chambered it, and put the safety on. "I just knew how to sneak in, get the job done, and never be seen. Before I went to Spain, a buddy of mine had the name engraved on the side as a gag."

He glanced over at her as he set the gun down. "I liked it. So I kept the name. And the gun? It never jams. It never misfires. It's never let me down."

Quietly, Aya filled the silence that followed, "Neither will I."

He held her gaze. The moments ticked and she avowed, again, with feeling, "You don't know me very well. It's been a rough couple of days. I haven't done my best for you. I will. If you take a chance on me? I won't let you down. I can't change what happened. I wish to god I could. But don't give up on me. Please. I don't know if I can do this without you."

Leon finally closed his eyes. She watched him gather a deep breath. Aya finished, quietly, "Let me help you. Like you've done for me. I won't grope you. I won't even peep."

He shook his head, angry again. Not at her. At this moment. At her need to talk to him like a victim. He wasn't. He hated feeling like one.

Aya tried one more time, softly, "I can't erase what she did to you...but I can fix this. Let me try."

Leon shoved off the locker like he'd leaped off that wall to fight the tyrant. He stalked toward her and she had the urge to meet him halfway and leap around his body like a wild thing. She tamped that down under layers of self-disgust and fear.

Because whatever else was true? He was dangerous. She'd seen him move, she'd watched him fight, she knew he could kill her before she could stop him. It scared her, it impressed her, and it turned her on.

She didn't have to like herself for feeling it, but there it was.

He was hurting and she wanted to mount him like a jockey and ride him to the finish. She needed whatever was in her gone. Now.

But she kept her hands suspended as if he had her at gunpoint - harmless. See? I'm harmless...right.

When he was close to her, she tilted her head. His breath blew warm and tempting over her forehead. She waited. He finally nodded and turned his eyes up to the ceiling. With a shiver of empathy, Aya laid her open palm on his side. She slid her other hand down and gripped his and said, "Remember your arm? This will be worse."

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and instructed, "...do it."

She did it.

It felt like she was trying to burn his bones inside of his body.

The hand not holding hers shot out and gripped the back of her neck. He jerked her into his body and she let him. The more of her that touched him, the faster he healed. The second her body bumped him, it felt like his blood was on fire.

He wasn't aware that he had shouted. He wasn't aware that he'd shoved her hard into the lockers behind her. Not once, not twice, three times. She let him. Her back rang with pain as his healed.

And just like when it started - it was done. Instant. Only the throb of release was left behind.

His eyes slid open...and he realized he had her arms gripped in his hands. He'd pinned her to the lockers. No...he'd  _slammed_ her into them. Ashamed, horrified, he let go of her and backed off.

There was a dent in the locker where she'd hit.

Aya slid to the bench and sat down. Her hands were shaking. She was pale.

Horrified, Leon apologized, profusely, "I'm so sorry. Are you alright? I didn't-"

She lifted her hand to halt him. "I'm fine. You were hurting. It's like a dog biting someone when its in pain. It's ok."

He took a step toward her, "It's not. It's not ok. I'm mortified. Let me see. I didn't realize -"

She shied away from him.

He froze.

And the moment was painful.

She thought he was going to hurt her.

The moment she realized it, Aya said sharply, "Reaction. Not you. Me. It was reactionary."

Leon backed off until he bumped into the other lockers. "I hurt you. You healed me and I hurt you. I didn't mean to. I'm a bastard. I'm so sorry."

Aya waved that away. The horror in his voice was soothing somehow. There were men out there that hurt women and liked it. He wasn't one of them. "It's fine. I mean it. I know that. Don't blame yourself. I'm fine."

She was holding her arm to the side in a way that he didn't like. His eyes narrowed at her. She glanced up at him and didn't like the look on his face at all. However, when he moved toward her again, she made sure not to shy away.

She rose, slowly, to face him.

Leon commanded, sharply, "Show me."

Aya shook her head, denying him.

He blocked her when she tried to move around him. When she shifted the other way, he put out an arm to stop her. The second her side touched his arm, she gasped and recoiled.

And confirmed what he'd been afraid of. She could heal. She healed but she took that damage onto herself to do it.

His face must have been pretty scary because Aya soothed, "I heal quickly. I promise. Your cut? It was gone from me in minutes."

She'd wounded herself to help him. She'd swallowed his pain and left herself mired in it. He'd never, in his life, met anyone like her. How did he stop himself from falling for her? She was the most selfless woman he'd ever met.

They stared at each other until she whispered, "Let me go now, ok? I won't see you again until I have something to report. We'll only meet with other people around. I won't to-"

His hand slipped to the side of her face and turned it up. She made a small sound and lifted her chin. He'd spent a good portion of his life kissing girls. He knew how to do it. He knew how to do it well.

He didn't dive. He didn't delve. He just pressed their mouths together while they both closed their eyes. She didn't pucker her lips back. She didn't moan and grope. She just let him.

She couldn't possibly know what it did to him to know it cost her to do that too.

After a moment, he let go of her face. Quietly, Leon told her, "...thank you."

Aya kept her face turned up. He watched her swallow twice. Her pulse in her throat beat rapidly. Her mouth puckered, just a bit, just a little.

He leaned down to brush her mouth with his again -testing. She opened her lips just a little when he urged it. He watched her while he kissed her, almost chastely.

He didn't feel shame. He didn't feel anger. He didn't feel rage. He didn't feel anything...but her. It healed something scared and scarred and aching in him he wasn't aware was there. His mouth pressed a little more, lifted, pressed again. Soft kisses, sweet, gentle and giving. He watched her hands lift, hesitate, and lower again and he urged, gruffly, "S'ok. Touch me."

But she denied that.

Aya shivered. She answered, trembling, "Do I taste like her?"

Leon rubbed their mouths together until she shivered, "...you taste like Aya."

 _Damn him._ Her thighs quivered. Her legs turned to jelly.

She was afraid she was falling for him. She needed to get away. Now. She backed up, head down, hands shaking.

The tension was finally too much for her. He kept his eyes on her face to see the regret flash there.

It shook loose another shackle of relief that he felt it too. He didn't want her to go. Parasite be damned,  _he_ wanted her to stay. He wanted to touch her and watch her eyes when he did it. He wanted to slide between her thighs and love her while she clung to him.

Eve hadn't stolen that from him after all.

At the door to the locker room, she shook her head and whispered, "...your towel fell off." And she fled.

She was right. It was lying on the floor. It had fallen off and he hadn't even noticed. That's what happened to him when she was around. She just...over took everything else in his universe.

Leon turned back to his locker to dress. She was the most fascinating creature he'd ever met. Hands down. She didn't try to hold him down and hurt him. She didn't try to steal anything from him at all. She just...took his pain away.

Shaking his head, he reached for his pants and sighed.

And the guilt of her taking his wounds onto herself to heal him? That hurt like hell.

* * *

**1:11 p.m. - Raccoon University Department of Genetics**

* * *

Rebecca was sitting at her computers when she saw the reflection in the monitors. Aya moved toward her. She took the seat beside the other woman. A small moment of silence passed between them.

Finally, Aya filled it, "I need to know if I can touch him. I need to know if I'll kill him if I do."

Rebecca studied her face. "You having feelings for him." She had it with a tone of real surprise.

Aya smiled a little sadly, "He's..."

Rebecca nodded. She patted her knee. "He's beautiful. And he's kind. And he's stupidly funny. I'm half in love with him myself."

Aya laughed, shaking her head, "I can't touch him if it means risking him. So what do I do?"

Rebecca tapped her pen on her lips. She tilted her head back and forth. Aya, nervous, asked, "What? Nothing? Is there nothing we can do?"

Rebecca patted her knee. She turned back to her computer and typed some keys. "There's no evidence at all that you can't touch him. In fact? It might be the answer you're both waiting for here. My suggestion? Hold on sweetheart, he looks like a guy gives you the ride of your lifetime."

Aya laughed, putting her face in her hands, "I'm here asking my Mom for permission to have sex. This is what my life has come to."

"I think it's wonderful you've asked me. I've been digging. I can't uncover anything that says you can't control it if you try. Grab his dick, grab a handful of that hair of his, and ride him into the sunset. It might loosen you both up so you can get back the hunt for the bad guys."

Aya blew out a breath and nodded, "Ok. Now how I do I approach my boss about going to bed with me without feeling like sexual harassment?"

"One, it isn't harassment if he likes it. Two..there's only one place that has the wisdom of the ages for us." With a short snort, Rebecca went right to YouTube for answers.

* * *

**1:22 p.m. - The Apartment of Kevin Ryman**

* * *

The phone beeped out the sounds of R2D2's excitement. His text tone usually made him happy. It was failing to do so when he had, literally, just gotten to sleep. Kevin rolled over and flopped his hand at the nightstand. The light from his phone shed blue on the scattering of hair on his chest before he closed one eye to stare at the message.

_Morse code came back. The lady? She's sending a single message: **We All Wear Masks**. Still working out the rest. Hit ya back soon._

Frowning, Kevin shook his head in the dark. What did that mean?

It meant they were no closer to finding out who was pulling the strings of this stupid puppet show.

Masks? As far as he could tell, the mask they were all wearing was turning out to be humanity.


	15. Chapter 15

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**December 2014–**

**Chapter Fifteen:**

**The Music Stops**

* * *

**7:15 p.m. - Carnegie Hall - Main Hall**

* * *

Leon hadn't been to the Opera once in his entire life. Rich people went to the opera. They listened to wailing women and fat chics in tight dresses lamenting the loss of their lovers with stupid little binoculars from balconies that smelled like stale smoke. It wasn't a place that had ever interested him.

But Melissa Pearce was scheduled to sing tonight.

 _The Fall of the House of Usher_  was a famous Edgar Allen Poe work. It was also an Opera, according to the program in Leon's hand. The bloody ghostly image of Pearce on the front was disturbing enough to remind him that he hated opera. Depressing themes. Death. Grief.

Who found that entertaining?

But he'd thrown on a suit to come out. It was the right thing to do. He didn't want to stand out or draw attention. He needed to get closer to Pearce to see...what? If he reacted to her like he did Aya?

Partly. Maybe. And maybe to find out what she knew. She hadn't left New York. So where had she been hiding?

The three-piece suit he wore was expensive. It moved like expensive silk did. It was classic black with a shiny red tie and a crisp white shirt beneath. He was pretty sure he looked like he blended in.

The lights flickered to signal the start of the show. Leon took his seat with the rest of the patrons. He settled into a spot in the balcony and picked up his tiny binoculars. The show began with a musical spill of perfect notes and skill.

Melissa Pearce took the stage. She was beautiful. She was powerful. She was Madeline - the erstwhile sister of the ill-fated Roderick. A story of loss and insanity. A tale of the terrible truth that was the human need to survive.

It was engrossing.

It was engaging.

She had beautiful green eyes and the perfect breasts for an opera singer. She was an hourglass. She was a quintessential bombshell. The white dress she wore hugged her curves and highlighted her beauty.

He felt nothing looking at her.

Nothing.

Not a damn thing.

He started to rise from his seat and something happened. He felt his mouth go dry. He felt his stomach clench. His gaze shifted back to find Melissa Pearce looking at him.

His blood hummed. His heart thumped behind his breast. The thing in him? It wanted her.

It wasn't just Aya after all.

His hand twitched to reach for the gun under his jacket. He rose from his seat to leave the thrall of her behind and go down to the lobby to await the end of the performance. The odd thing about it? The thrall didn't become less as he left behind the opera box.

It heightened.

What did that mean? The closer he got to her, the more the thing in him wanted her? Did that mean whatever this was...she was the key?

He reached the bottom of the stairs to the lobby. It was still and silent without all the other people. The red, red, red carpet was soft under his feet as he stepped down.

He wasn't alone in the lobby.

Aya was moving toward him. The black dress she wore was timeless. It was straps and sin and seduction. Her breasts were offered like a smorgasbord of greed above the square bodice. Her legs shifted silvery and soft beneath, tucked into strappy silver shoes that showed perfect pink toes beneath. Her hair was fixed in a way that was classy and timeless. What did they call that? A chignon?

It was the strongest reaction he'd had to her yet.

Was it heightened by Pearce?

Was Pearce echoing Aya?

Or was it the other way around?

He felt like he was trapped between two fires - either way he stepped, he was going to burn alive.

Aya said, quietly, "The power of opera lay in its heroines — the consumptive courtesan who revels in the pleasures of life even as she is dying, the cloistered maiden who sacrifices herself for an ill-fated love. This is entertainment to the masses, right?"

Her hair was plaited and swept up and soft and curly in just the right way. She was blonde and blue-eyed and beautiful. She was slim and sleek and soul stealing. She'd worn some kind of contraption to just push her breasts up and choke him with want. He couldn't breathe.

Leon lifted his hand to loosen his tie as she added, "I shouldn't be here, I know that. I just...couldn't risk you. I told you I healed quick. I'm sorry you were so worried. You're tougher than you let on because it hurt like hell."

She knew she was rambling and couldn't seem to stop, "I haven't been to the opera in year, so I hope I'm dressed right. I didn't want you to go alone. I didn't..." She shifted and shrugged, "What if she tries to burn you alive?"

A funny thing to say. He felt like he was burning alive right now.

Almost panicked, he whispered, "What are you doing to me, Aya? You can't be here. You have to go. I told you to stay away. This is what you do? You show up dressed like you're going to prom in a porno?"

She shook her head, looking concerned, "What does that even mean? I kept picturing you on the ground as ashes. I didn't know if you could resist her without me."

Her? Was she crazy? The only her he was having trouble resisting was Aya. When he said nothing, Aya tried again, "You want me to go? I know I said I'd st-"

His arm snaked around her waist. It dragged her in. The music from the opera hall crescendoed. It rose and swelled around them. In the heels, she was tall enough he didn't have to lean down far to reach her. No sweet kisses now. Nothing gentle and giving.

Aya relented instantly and clutched at him. She opened his mouth with hers to dine on his flavor. She rubbed her breasts against him as if she'd beg for him to touch her.

It wasn't a soft kiss. It was desperate. She didn't even fight him off.

She just gave in.

They tilted heads and traded tongues like dancers. The music made their quiet sounds seem nearly poetic. She gripped his tie in one hand and his jacket in the other. He tilted her face back and kept the other around her waist to pin her to him.

When there was no more air, he let her go.

Someone in the concert hall was singing about life without his love - a mournful tale of longing and loss and obsession that even death couldn't quench.

Aya stumbled back. She put a hand to her mouth. They panted, watching each other, and he spoke first, "...I can't breathe."

"Me either. I can't do anything but need you."

She shook her head, softly, "Oh, god, me either. This is bad, Leon. It's so bad. I don't know what's causing this. Her? Why? I should go. But I'm afraid to go. I'm afraid to stay. I'm afraid of you."

He laughed, harshly, "Of me? I would never hurt you."

She tried again, her hair shivering with the shift of her head, "No. Not you...of  _this._  I should have known something like this would happen. What did I think? I should have known."

Leon took a step toward her and she backed up one. What would she do? Run from him? It was almost funny, but it wasn't at all. His voice was gravelly when he told her, "It's like being inside a volcano.  _Aya...damnit -I_  told you to stay away."

She nodded, keeping that hand over her mouth, "Is it worse? With her here? Is it worse? It's worse for me. I can feel the heat of her on the other side of the door. Like she's...urging me on or something."

Leon echoed her nod. He put his hands in his hair and tugged. "I don't know how to make it stop."

She claimed that step she'd given up. Her hand hesitantly touched the lapel of his suit. "Go. Now. Go now. I'll talk to her. You should go, Leon. Get away from here. Before you hurt yourself."

He wasn't a coward. He didn't run. But what if he stayed? Would he try to mount Melissa Pearce like a bull in season? Would he do the same to Aya? Maybe they'd have a goddamn orgy in the lobby. He didn't know what was happening.

He needed answers.

He wouldn't get them running.

Leon opened his mouth to say that. He opened his mouth to say he had to see it through, and his mouth said instead, "I can feel her heart beating in there. She's excited. You're excited. Come with me to see her. I promise I can satisfy you both."

Aya shivered. Her nipples peaked against the dress. Her body liked the idea of sharing him with that woman beyond that door. What did that mean? She held her hand out like a shield, "Don't. Don't talk like that. Go get a cab and go home. Now. Please. I-I think we need to talk. I'll come over. I'll do that. But you should go. Before-."

He caught her hand to drag her in. She didn't fight that either. She went. He rolled his face behind her ear and cupped her butt in his left hand to feel her. "...part of me wants to hurt you for making me want you."

She went still against him. Her heart thumped hard. "Do you? I don't think you do. Remember? You hurt me today. You didn't mean to, but you hurt me. Did you like that?"

He couldn't remember that. Not now. His right hand laid flat against her breasts to feel the cage of her sternum alert him to the bump of her needy heart that waited there. "Maybe you'd like it. You'd beg for it." He nipped at her neck and had her swallowing, hard, "...stop me."

He whispered that in her ear. Almost begging. It was like two men in one body. The one that was him, the one that was losing to a monster. It mirrored the pieces of her that were the same. She whispered, "I don't want to."

He slid his mouth down her face to kiss her. She moaned. She opened her mouth. His tongue claimed it. She milked it mercilessly. And the pain of the fire broke over them both.

The volcano churned. It was like they were sucked into it and overrun by lava made of greed.

The world trembled. The music made it worse somehow. He felt the flush and fire of losing pieces of his mind. Like the plagas in Spain taking him over, he wasn't able to catch the memories until she was face down on a table and warning him, "Wait! Not here! Leon!"

"I can't stop." He sounded so desperate. How had they gotten here? He couldn't remember! She kissed him. She grabbed him. He threw her down to take her.

Finally, she gasped. Her hands grabbed for his and she told him, "Let's go. The bathroom. Now. Ok? Please. I'll help you. I swear I'll help you. But not here."

It was the first time a woman in his life had begged him  _not_ to fuck her. His chest hurt. His blood was burning.

He'd torn her dress. He'd scared her. He'd hurt her? He couldn't remember anything. She was down on her face in an opera hall like an animal. But who was? He was. He was the animal.

He'd stopped enough that she was able to lean over her shoulder and look at him. "Ok. It's ok. Let me go now. Let me go."

He couldn't. It was all he could do to hold on and stand there. Fate gave him an answer.

The hit came from the left. It plowed into his face and sent him over like a felled tree. Leon hit his ass and skidded across the polished floor.

Bo rose over him like the wrath of God.

"YOU MUTHA FUCKA!"

Aya pushed up, fast and afraid, "No! BO! NO!"

But the big man had lifted his boss from the ground by his tie to hit him again. The blow snapped Leon's head back. He didn't stop it. He took it. Each moment of pain brought him a little more back to himself.

Aya tried to gather her dress around her. Bo tossed his jacket at her to cover herself. "I'm gunna kill you!"

She stuck her arms in the coat so fast her head spun. Leon wasn't fighting back. She knew why. She knew it. The blows were probably putting him back in his own head. But each one from Bo's fist to his face hurt her like she'd taken them herself.

Aya grabbed for Bo's arm and pulled, "Don't! Oh, god...Bo! STOP! He's not himself! Stop it! It wasn't just him!"

Bo shoved Leon away. The former rookie stumbled and put his hand to his mouth to wipe at the blood. Bo took a step toward him, spitting, "You sound like a victim! You hear this shit? She's acting like she deserved it! I should put you in the fucking ground!"

Aya tried again, "Bo...he's not him. This is..." Bo reached to hit Leon again and she put herself between them and cried, "DANIEL! Don't touch him again!"

Surprised, Bo finally dropped his fist. "What the hell is this? He had you down on your face like some kind of fucking beast! You were crying! What is going on here!?"

She might have answered. She started to. Then the music stopped. Leon felt the horror hit him. The music stopped, the doors to the opera hall opened...and Melissa Pearce walked out.

The moment she and Aya locked eyes...the world went still. Melissa staggered. She put her hand out like she'd ward off a blow. Aya swayed on her feet and nearly fell down before Bo caught her.

Leon shouted, "Bo! GET HER OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW!"

The big man took him at his word. He pulled Aya over his shoulder and ran for the doors. Melissa fell to her knees and screamed.

And a man coming from the bathroom caught fire. He started screaming so high and loud that it echoed in the great hall. Leon, afraid of what she'd do, did something he'd never done before in his entire life - he roundhouse kicked a woman right in her screaming face.

She went down, out like a light.

The man stopped burning and fell to his face on the floor to start sobbing.

She hadn't burned Leon. Had she tried? Had she failed?

There was no time to decide. He needed her contained. Now. Before she woke up and set the rest of the world on fire.

* * *

**12:42 a.m. - Raccoon City Hospital - Secure Treatment Ward (The Hive)**

* * *

Melissa Pearce was sitting in a white gown behind heavy glass. She was in a centralized chamber where the risk of combustion was minimized. Since the immolation seemed to work on a cellular level, it was hard to predict if they, really, had a concrete way to stop her from accidentally killing anyone.

She didn't seem to be aware she could hurt anyone.

She seemed frightened and panicked.

Leon had been around the block enough times to not take anything at face value. She was an actress, right? He wasn't inclined to believe her.

On the other side of the glass, he felt no pull to her. He wasn't sure if it was being between the two forces in that concert hall the night before, or just something to do with viral warfare, or some mumbo jumbo he didn't know about yet...but the pull wasn't there. He felt no interest in doing anything but interrogating her.

Beside him, Rebecca touched his arm. He glanced at her to find her looking at him with sympathy, "Are you alright?"

Leon laughed, shaking his head. He was in a plain white t-shirt and loose sweats. He hadn't even gone home to change clothes. He'd stayed after Pearce was contained to help with clean up. It was minimal this time, stopping her had saved her from immolating anyone else but the poor man who'd come from the bathroom at the wrong time.

But he'd wanted to send a team to investigate the hall completely.

There was nothing to find. Whatever was in that place wasn't significant. It seemed, at the moment, that Melissa Pearce was as innocent as Aya. Just a woman with an organ that was trying to destroy her.

Quietly, Leon answered, "You're the first person to ask," He laughed dryly again, "Hell, you're the first person to even  _speak_ to me."

It turned out, trying to force yourself on a coworker in the middle of Carnegie Hall tended to make people dislike you. Bo wouldn't even speak to him. Kevin was more sympathetic, but not by much. He'd said, just once, coldly, "You're like a fucking alcoholic man...you never go out without your sponsor."

Leon had nothing to say but, "...I didn't know she'd be there. I didn't know that would happen."

Kevin had shaken his head and replied, "Doesn't matter. You should have known better."

He should have. It was that simple. He'd been too curious to see if Pearce was connected somehow like Aya. He'd been rash, impulsive, stupid. He was really tired of being stupid.

Out loud, Leon said, "What did I think would happen, Rebecca? That I'd walk into that place and fist fight a monster and win?"

Rebecca shifted to glance at Melissa Pearce and answered, calmly, "Why not? You're the guy who went up against an entire army of the undead with a handgun. The guy who faced an entire military force of plagas infected with the same one. You're the Ghost."

He glanced at her and she smiled, lightly, "You're not just a guy, Leon. Whatever is inside you or not, you're not just a guy. You couldn't have known that would happen. But maybe we can help you control yourself around Aya. Maybe we can start there."

He held her gaze and returned, "Is she alright?"

Rebecca smiled, gently, and patted his arm again, "She is. She's fine. She's worried about you. She wants to see you. Bo won't let her leave the ICU until she's had every test under the sun. The second he got her away from the hall, she woke up. She said..." Rebecca trailed off and smiled again, "She said they had to go back for you. She said you'd burn up if they left you."

Leon glanced back at the glass and the woman behind it, "I told her I wouldn't hurt her. I promised."

Rebecca gripped his arm until he looked at her again, "You  _didn't._ That wasn't you. Whatever this is, Leon, I'll find away to stop it. Have faith."

"I did. Before the concert hall? I hurt her."

"She told me that too."

He glanced at her and looked so ashamed of himself, so broken. With sympathy, Rebecca gripped his forearm, "It's not you. This? It's not your fault. Stop blaming yourself."

"You seen anybody else? I go from angry to horny to hating myself. I don't know what to do."

She gave him a small smile, ""If you were a girl, I'd ask if you were pregnant."

He laughed, but it sounded so sad. Trying to soothe him, she added, "There's a way to deal with it. Don't give up on me yet."

Giving up wasn't something he was known for anyway. He didn't know how to just roll over and die. But what if giving in meant the same? He'd nearly forced himself on her at that concert hall. It didn't matter that her body was begging for it. He wasn't an animal.

His face reflected back at him. Maybe he wasn't.

But he wasn't even sure he was Leon Kennedy anymore.


	16. Chapter 16

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**December 2014–**

**Chapter Sixteen:**

**The Man in the Monster**

* * *

**12:49 a.m. - Raccoon City Hospital - Secure Treatment Ward (The Hive)**

* * *

Talking to Pearce was their first priority here. Maybe she had all the answers.

Leon nodded and pressed the button the wall beside the glass. The intercom popped in the room and drew the attention of Melissa Pearce. She looked at the empty glass and called, "Hello? Who's there?"

Leon answered, "Ms. Pearce, I'm Director Kennedy - I'm in charge the BCU here at the RPD. I need to talk to you about your sister, Megan."

Pearce nodded. She moved closer to the glass. She scanned the empty wall and remarked, "Kennedy? The guy on the news? The terrorist guy?"

The terrorist guy. What a title. Leon responded, gently, "That's right. You've seen the updates then? You know about the recipients of Megan's organs?"

Pearce nodded again, "I do. I was...I was trying to leave the city. I was packed up and ready to go. But a man, he came to the hall. He handed me a key to a room at the Apple Inn. He told me to meet him there if I wanted to get out alive."

She turned away and paced again, "I went. Stupid, but I was afraid. He gave me a bag filled with clothes. He gave me money. He said it would just cost me some blood. He wanted my blood."

Pearce turned back to the window, "Why would he want that? I didn't know. I was so scared. The dreams I was having...I was so scared. I gave him the blood. I left him in that room. I took the ticket for the train he gave me. I was ready to go."

She scanned the empty window as if she could see him, "I saw you. I saw you at the station. I saw you. Why were you there? I knew you were there for me. I couldn't run. You'd stop me. I went back. I thought...I was being crazy. I was being a coward. I was fine. The dreams were scary, sure, but I was fine. I left the backpack on the tracks and went out the emergency exit. I don't know how I knew to do that. I don't know...there was a woman in a cloak...she just said...to follow her. I went. Why did I go? I don't know. I don't know anything."

Leon glanced at Rebecca. The scientist finally spoke, "Melissa? I'm Rebecca Chambers. I'm a doctor here. I think I might be able to answer some of those questions. But I need you to agree to let me test you. If you agree, we might be able to stop the dreams and get some answers."

Melissa looked like she might cry as she answered, "I killed that man, right? That was me. I set him on fire. How did I do that?  _Why_ did I do that? I just...I saw that girl. I saw her. She's the girl that got the brain, right? Birkin?"

Rebecca started to answer and Leon touched her arm and replied, "Do you know Sherry Birkin?"

She nodded and remarked, "She'd come to visit us at the orphanage a lot when I was young. She got sick and stopped coming. But that's when that doctor adopted us. He said we were special. He said we could help save lives. Megan...she already wanted to be a doctor. She was excited. Me? I was just happy to get out of the group home. When he told us we shared a special blood type with Sherry Birkin, I was happy. Sherry was so sweet. We all knew she was dying. I was hoping to help her."

Melissa studied the one-way glass, "He mutated us or something, right? He made us monsters. Why? So Megan would die and give Sherry a brain? My heart gave out while he was experimenting on us. I was so young. My heart couldn't take the strain. The doctors said it was a genetic flaw, but Klamp...I knew it was him. I knew he'd done it somehow. He'd pumped me full of shit and ruined me."

She rubbed at her face and murmured, "We were nothing but guinea pigs to him. We were nothing but test subjects. What's going to happen to me now? I saw the other recipients are in comas. Will I go into one? Is that what happens now?"

Rebecca answered, soothingly, "I'm going to do everything I can to make sure that doesn't happen. If you'll let me try."

Melissa finally nodded. Leon glanced at Rebecca and said, "Risky. She could immolate you without meaning too."

"I'll wear a fire protective suit. It probably won't work, but I can't ask anyone else to take the risk, Leon. It has to be me."

He shook his head in denial, "No. Me. I didn't burn. I don't think I'll burn. Something stops it. Just stand by in case I go nuts and try to..." He trailed off. Rebecca patted his arm again.

As he started toward the entrance to Melissa Pearce's room, Rebecca informed, softly, "I think you can avoid that. If you stop being stupid."

His brows winged up and she added, "Sometimes denying yourself what you need is as bad as leaving an open wound to fester."

Leon glanced over his shoulder at her. "...I don't know what that means."

She smiled and shrugged a little, "You keep running. You and Aya both. You keep fighting it. I know what happened to you, I know that scares you. I know whatever is inside of you scares you. But what happened with you last night?"

He turned his head in shame and Rebecca finished her statement anyway, "That's only scary because you were fighting it. Was she?"

Leon took a moment to think about that. He finally looked at her and asked, "What?"

"Was she fighting you? You fought, when you could, against what happened to you. You didn't want it. But did she fight you?"

Leon took a long moment to answer. When he did, it was so low it was hard to hear, "Her body said yes...her mouth said no. And now I sound like a goddamn rapist."

Rebecca nodded and crossed her arms over her chest, "She told me the same thing. So you sound like her. But she was trying to stop the place, Leon, not the act. I think you've been trying too hard to fight it. Maybe the answer here is to let it happen. Decide when. Decide how. If you control it, if she does...maybe it'll satisfy whatever is happening between you. Maybe it will fulfill whatever biological imperative is pushing you together. You had a release with Eve."

She watched that shame echo on him again and she added, "It's not your fault. It's a basic function, Leon. It felt good. It's ok if some of it felt good. It doesn't make you a monster."

With a dry laugh, he ran his hands through his hair, "Doesn't it? I nearly did the same thing to Aya last night. What kind of person does that? A monster."

Rebecca shook her head at him and returned, "Emotional responses seem to strengthen whatever is between you. The addition of Melissa on the other side of the door heightened it. There are an underlying dominance and submission to whatever is growing in Aya and it's echoed in what's in you. I know it feels wrong. I know it feels bad. But she didn't hold you down and hurt you, Leon. She wasn't the aggressor...you were."

With a curse of shame, he turned back to her, "You think I don't know that?"

"No, just wait. What I'm saying is that you  _can_ control it. You can turn it. Maybe you can't stop it, but you can choose how it gets what it needs, Leon. You and Aya...you could discuss how to let it out, how to deal with it...but if you  _choose..._ it might make all the difference in the world on how it manifests."

He tilted his head, considering that. "You're saying maybe we can turn whatever is to our benefit?"

"Exactly. Like Aya learning to control her powers. You can control the attraction. Use protection. And then use each other."

She laughed at the look on his face, "We need to locate Eve. We don't know how much time we have. But you and Aya? You need to figure this out first. You can't face Eve and win when the two of you can barely be near each other without combusting. You need to make the choice to merge here, Leon. Sexually. Physically. Metaphysically. Psychically. There's a bond there we can use, maybe, to locate Eve. Her dreams, you felt her. I saw it. You weren't there, but you were there with her somehow. You're connected to Aya. Until I can find out the why, we need to try to use that. You need to teach her what you know to fight and I need to monitor you both to see if linking can be done through minds as well as bodies."

He pushed his hair back once more and nodded, "...ok. Ok. I'll talk to her. I'll see about it. Maybe Melissa Pearce's blood will have answers."

Rebecca smiled and shrugged, "Maybe it'll have more questions. But the one I can tell you here? Fighting is killing you both. Stop fighting. Choose the time. Pick the place. And give in. In the meantime, we'll keep rushing to find Eve, we'll keep putting pressure on Birkin to give us what we need to do that. I'll keep working on a cure. There's nothing else we can do."

Leon paused as he reached the door and asked, "What if it makes it worse? What if touching each other kills us?"

Rebecca shook her head, "It's ok to be afraid of that. Of course, you would. But there's nothing I can find to prove that will happen. You had sex with Eve, maybe the fountainhead of the whole thing...and you're physically fine. Eve was trying to get your sperm to create something. Whatever is in Aya? It's trying to do the same. Don't let it. Protect her. Protect yourself. They make little pills to guarantee you don't get pregnant. I don't think the energy in your bodies is smart enough to realize you're not making a baby, Leon. It just wants you to do the act. It's almost animalistic in nature. It wants you to mate. So mate...just don't conceive."

She was giving him permission to fuck the girl he'd been trying to avoid since the moment he met. Worse yet? She made it sound like a good idea. But the image of pushing her down on that table haunted him.

What was with this thing and rape? Why was it always rape with bad guys?

He sighed and asked the question out loud. It was rhetorical, he didn't really expect an answer. But Rebecca said, "The praying mantis kills her mate during sex because it causes her to produce more eggs. By widowing herself, she guarantees her mate provides for their offspring even after death. Like the ultimate way to avoid a dead beat dad."

Leon arched his brows into his hair and actually laughed, "...sucks to be the dad."

"Does it? He dies during the best orgasm of his life. There are worse ways to go."

How fucked up was the world when part of him actually agreed with that?

"Cover me. If anything happens..."

"Don't worry. I won't let it."

Leon nodded.

He ducked into the room with Melissa Pearce thinking about Aya ripping his throat out in that dream. He'd died happy, there was no getting around that. But Rebecca was saying they could potentially turn that impulse. They could make it pleasure. They could shut down the boiling need between them without potentially killing each other.

With that need stifled, they could push Aya to find out what she could really do with her emerging gifts.

Maybe having sex with her was the right idea after all.

He might have convinced himself that idea was ludicrous, but the moment he touched Melissa Pearce he changed his mind. It wasn't there. The push and pull and the need...it wasn't there. He was warm beside her. He felt curious about her. He felt more for her than he had for Helena at the concert that night.

But it wasn't anything like he felt for Aya.

Sensing it herself, Melissa spoke with her hands tucked into her lap. "Did you get an organ too?"

Leon shook his head and shifted to put the vial of her blood on the sterile tray. "Nope. I was...experimented on some time ago. Whatever is in me? Seems to compliment whatevers in you."

Melissa laughed, dryly, and leaned back on the bed where she sat, "Parasites. That's what the doctor said who put me in this box. Parasites. Like it's a fucking tapeworm or something."

With sympathy, Leon smiled at her, "I know. It's impossible to make sense of it. Did you kill me in your dreams?"

Melissa nodded. She laughed again, "While the world burned around us. You liked it. You begged for it. And we weren't alone."

At the doorway to her room, he paused and looked back at her, "No?"

"No. Sherry Birkin was there watching us...but even still...she wasn't the only one. There was another one that looked just like her. They were watching together. Does she have a twin?"

His mouth was dry as he answered, "I don't know. But I'll find out."

"What happens to me now, Mr. Kennedy? Am I a prisoner here?"

Leon gave her a sad smile, "Sorta. But it's to protect you, I promise you that. She can't touch you here. And you can't hurt anyone until we figure out what's causing the powers. Can you do anything else?"

Melissa shook her head, "I didn't know I could...set people on fire. I didn't know. Is that man dead?"

Leon shook his head, "Not yet. It's not your fault. I'm gonna find out how to stop it, Melissa. I swear."

He was really hoping that was the truth. It was getting harder and harder to believe it.

She put her face in her hands to cry. He put his hand on her shoulder to comfort her. Her hospital gown slid a little and his thumb brushed her bare shoulder. Later, he'd think it was a lesson he'd never really learned well enough - caution.

It wasn't true. Whatever he'd thought about it being only Aya?  _It wasn't true._

Melissa made a sound. She gripped his wrist in her hand in a fluid motion and tugged. It jerked him off his feet as she tossed him on the bed. She crawled over his body. Her hands grabbed for his pants.

He tried, he did, to fight her off, but she was monster strong. She slapped his face when he tried to rise. It nearly knocked him unconscious with the force of it. It left him dazed with his head spinning.

Into his ear, she hissed. "Our blood is one. Give me what I need."

Her white hospital gown crinkled. She pinned him with a hand on his throat and stuck her hand in his pants. Interestingly enough, the second she touched him - his body was happy to spring erect for her. She purred. She licked his mouth. She moaned, "There...it's good to surrender. Surrender...and  _awaken_. You have to free yourself."

His mouth hissed, "Get off me, you  _bitch."_ What scared him was that his body liked her.

He couldn't fight her off, but his head was still him. It wasn't like Aya, not at all, not really. He didn't  _want_ the woman atop him. But his body wasn't in the same boat. It arched into her stroking hand.

Above her suckling on his neck, he shouted, "GET IN HERE! GET HER OFF ME!"

The door whooshed up as she angled him at her body and tried to mount him. He jerked away as the panic set in. He lodged a hand against her hips to stop her from taking him. But that was the best he could do. He was literally fighting himself. These goddamn women...he was going to enjoy killing every last parasite in this city. "REBECCA!"

And Melissa started jerking atop him. Someone had stuck a shock rod in her back. She let go of his body and tumbled to the side, spasming.

Rebecca, in a fireproof suit, kept the rod on Melissa until she collapsed on her side on the floor. Leon rolled off the bed to his feet and didn't even wait, he left the room as the other fireproof suit emerged to help secure Melissa. She shouted, but Rebecca stuck a needle in her to put her down.

Leon staggered into the observation room, grabbed the lamp off the table and heaved it at the far wall with a shout of rage. It hit, it burst and scattered in a tableau of anger, and he kicked the table there underneath it until it flipped over and spun away.

"FUCK!"

From behind him, Rebecca said softly, "You should."

He turned on her, fuming, angry in ways that had no name. "I don't want to touch that woman! You want me to go back in there and finish!? She almost did!"

Rebecca shook her head. She set the mask of the suit on the desk beside her. "Whatever you do here, that thing in you has needs. You do too. You keep fighting it, it's going to end with you doing something stupid and reckless. The  _only_ control you have is limited. Control the how. Control the when. Choose Aya, before the thing in you chooses for you."

Control. Was she kidding?

He stalked out of the lab feeling like a man with no control of his life. Was this his only option? To find the woman who he'd nearly...

He let the thought trail off. In a normal circumstance, he'd have asked her out anyway. He knew himself well enough to at least admit that. He'd have broken his own code to date a coworker and asked her. He liked her. He wanted her. He had feelings for her that were complicated and very much his own.

He didn't want a parasite to decide if they had each other. He didn't want a parasite to decide who he was.

As he headed back through the security checkpoints to leave the ward, the elevator opened and Bo was there with Aya beside him. She was in a hooded sweatshirt in pale blue. It seemed to be her go-to style for cold winter days. The RPD logo was emblazoned over the chest. It was enormous and likely Bo's. Her hair was in two scruffy pigtails at the base of her neck. She looked tired, pale, and determined.

As she stepped off the elevator toward him, Bo stepped between them. "I don't think so, A. I'll break his arm if he even touches you."

Annoyed, Leon answered, "You could try. But I'm not going to let you sucker punch me again, Bo. I'd think long and hard about if you're prepared to get your ass kicked."

Aya shook her head and pushed on Bo's chest to send him back a step. "Stop it. I told you last night, I got this. I can handle him. Go."

Leon was actually kind of afraid what would happen if Bo left them. Because that angered him beyond belief, he snapped, "Back off and get lost."

Bo gave him an angry look and turned to Aya. "He had you down like a fucking animal, A. Like a dog or something about to mount you. I heard you! I heard you say stop."

She pushed on him again, "You don't understand. How could you? It's so complicated, Bo. It's a mess. I need you to trust me. I need you to listen when I tell you that it's not him. That wasn't him last night. Hitting him won't help anything."

Bo gave Leon a dirty look and remarked, "It'll help me feel better."

It might make them both feel better, Leon thought madly, a good punch in the face to clear the mind.

Leon laughed, angry now, "You're out of line, Bo. You better think about that before you come at me again."

"Out of line? You mean like trying to force yourself on a girl saying stop? You'd think you of all people would have stopped. I don't give a shit what was ridin you. I don't care. I warned you. I told you. If you hurt her, I'd make you a puddle of piss on the ground."

There came a point when he was just done being threatened. They'd reached it. Leon took a step toward him, "You wouldn't be the first to try. Ask me how many of them walked away afterward."

The tension spiked. Aya threw a hand against his chest and one at Bo. "Don't. Either of you. Don't you dare look for a reason to pound each other to death. I'm fine. I don't need you to fight over me. Bo? Go. Now. Let me handle this."

Bo spit on the floor at Leon's feet and grunted, "Far as I can tell, a man ain't a man if he needs to force himself on a woman. 'Specially when he had one do the same damn thing to him. She can protect you all she wants, but eventually? You're gonna get what's comin to you."

Aya finally shouted at him, "Bo! I said go!"

He turned and stalked to the elevator. He angrily slapped buttons. As the doors shut, he pointed between them and remarked, "I'm watching you... _sir."_

When he was gone, Leon cursed and turned away from her. "He's not wrong. I almost.." He trailed off and cursed, darkly, "She affects me too. They affect me too, Aya. Not like you. Part of me  _hates_ that I can't seem to control myself around you."

"Stop it." She gripped the back of his shirt and dragged him into a small lab beside them. "Stop it now. You were stuck in the middle of an inferno last night. Being that close to Melissa Pearce affected me too. I couldn't breathe. I could barely move. The only thing I wanted was you. Maybe it was you pushing me down, but it was me begging for it, Leon. I wanted it. I just didn't want to lose you to get it. I didn't mean no not at all, Leon. I meant no not  _there._ "

"Stop, Aya, stop talking like that."

When he resisted, she tugged his shirt to turn him to her. "Why? Why does it have to be painful? We're killing each other. I won't do to you what Eve did. And you won't do it to me. I know you. I trust you. I think I need you. Do you feel that?"

Did she think she needed to  _ask_? He'd done nothing but need her since the moment they met.

His hands lifted as he refused to touch her. It hurt her. He was taking everything like an attack. It didn't have to be. Didn't he see that?

With a small sound of regret, he confessed, "I'm hard. Right now? I'm hard because she held me down and tried to mount me like I was her stallion there to knock her up. I didn't even want her. But my body, Aya...my  _body.._.  _I_  can't be this guy. I can't be someone who just lies down and lets people use him. It's not  _me._ It's not how I'm built. I'm drowning here."

He sounded so scared. Her feelings for him swirled in sympathy. She soothed him, "It's not giving up, Leon. It's giving  _in."_

"Don't. Don't don't don't. Be still. I want to stop touching you, Aya. I don't know how."

That echoed between them. She was surprised that it hurt her feelings. A curious thing.

Into the heavy sound of his raspy breaths, she murmured, "Maybe we need to do this, so we can stop fighting each other and go after what matters. Do you want to come home with me? I won't hurt you. When we can talk a-"

A sharp shake of his head, "We won't talk. You know that."

"We could try."

"...Rebecca told me to take you to bed... That it might help us find the answers to what's in us. Is that what you want? You want me to take you home and fuck you?"

She got the feeling he didn't talk like that to women. He was a guy who said, "take you to bed". He wasn't a guy who said fuck in a filthy way without trying to offend you. He was trying to turn her off. He failed. The filthy talk? It just turned her. Her body damped at the idea. A hard moment. An easy answer. She gasped, almost hoarsely, "Yes. Why does that make you so angry?"

"Because it's not you. It's what in you."

She shook her head. She tried to hang onto him but he was already retreating. It was all over his face, "It's me. It's just me. It doesn't make you a monster to want me. Take me home. I won't hurt you."

He leaned back to see her flushed face. She stroked a thumb over his mouth. He looked so angry. Her breath caught as he told her, "I need to think. Do me a favor and just let me do my job for a little while. Let me teach you what I was hired for here. Let me separate from this. For a little bit."

"Of course. That's fine. It's ok, Leon. I'm not going anywhere. We'll try it your way."

Great. Now he sounded like a fucking coward. He hated how gentle and giving she was. She just gave him what he needed. And he was here fighting it like he'd die if he gave in. "...I'm sorry."

Leon slapped the wall beside her face, twice, and pushed away from her. He left her in the cool dark lab and stalked away. Aya leaned on the wall with her hand over her mouth.

What were they saying here? That they were considering giving in to whatever this was? That fucking might...what? Link them together to form something greater? Would they go together like legos and create a tower?

She turned her head to watch him climb onto the elevator. The small red balloon floated above him. He never looked at it. He didn't even know it was there. But she did. She watched it bob. She glanced down at the little girl beside him with his face.

She was always there.

She was always with him.

A ghost with a Ghost.

She lifted her hand and waved at Aya as the door swished closed.

The eye was showing her things beyond this dimension or something. It was granting her sight that had nothing to do with monsters. Now it was showing her ghosts.

She leaned on the wall and put her hands over her eyes.

How much time did she have before she became like Sherry Birkin? What was that little girl trying to tell her? What was Megan Pearce trying to tell her through her eye? What did it mean that being close to Melissa Pearce made her faint and overheat like that?

Why didn't it happen near Helena?

Was Zoe Baker a part of any of it?

Why did Sherry Birkin share her face?

No answers.

No time.

No hope.

She was drowning here. The eye was showing her people who were long gone. Ghosts of those who'd died long ago. It was showing her monsters. It was showing her memories of a lost city. She was seeing Tall Oaks. How? The eye had never been there.

It was showing her things that made no sense. Raccoon on fire. Raccoon filled with zombies. Raccoon flooded in the streets with blood. The buzz of bullets, the blaze of bombs from the sky - and total sanitation.

A glimpse into the future?

Would they fail? Would the whole city become a playground for the corrupt? Would Sherry Birkin bring about the end of their world?

She needed to quell the thing inside her, she needed to halt the destruction that loomed like a phantom on the horizon...before Raccoon became a city of the dead.


	17. Chapter 17

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**December 2014–**

**Chapter Seventeen:**

**The Truth is Painful**

* * *

**7:08 p.m. - The Hive - Secure Treatment Chamber**

* * *

On her back, staring into the dark, Melissa Pearce kept trying to ignore the voices in her head, but they were legion. She'd tried to avoid the truth of all of it for so long. When had it really started? Years ago when she'd been a little girl.

The little girl with the balloon had been her invisible friend for almost three years before they'd convinced her she was "in need of help". They treated her for schizophrenia and the little girl disappeared. She'd been so sad to see her go.

Melissa had cried for three days after she'd left.

Her eyes stared at the red balloon above her. The little girl had come back a few days ago. She'd popped up ever since. She was dark haired and blue eyed and lingering. She sat now on the edge of the bed beside her.

Into the dark, Melissa whispered, "Why are you here? What do you want?"

The little girl told her, quietly, "...to exist."

Closing her eyes, Melissa begged, "Please... _please..._ _I don't know what that means -_ not now- not before. I don't know what to do."

The voices in her head answered, "... _give birth to her...find him..."_

Who? But she knew. She'd always known.

And yet...she was so afraid. She put her face in her hands to weep. The castle behind her eye lids burned like a brand she could never erase.

* * *

**7:08 p.m. -Remote Location -BCU Training Area - January 1st, 2015**

* * *

They were both so tired of training. The fighting, the learning, the leaning, the teaching. He didn't want to teach anymore. He wanted to get away from her. He wanted to rip off her pants and cum in her. He was a mess.

He was tired of being a ball of tension and stress. He was horny and miserable and losing ground by the day. Each stone they unturned left another beneath it. A perilous push into pasts that he couldn't even pick apart to find the root.

Aya was  _always_ in his way. Standing there. Leaning there. Fighting him, forcing him to face his own needs. He  _hated_ her. He was almost obsessed with her. It was terrifying.

She spent as much time as possible trying to avoid him. When he was near, she couldn't eat. She couldn't sleep. She didn't focus. She couldn't help Rebecca on the cure. She couldn't help Ryman and Bo on finding anything to tie the threads of all of their victims together. She couldn't do anything but choke on the cloying craving that permeated her world.

Their stifled need was suffocating them both in misery. Finally, they'd left Raccoon to attempt to harness her powers and his. They thought, maybe letting their needs manifest in action and reaction would satisfy the staggering lust that left them both breathless.

So far? It just made them both hurt.

"You're not trying hard enough! Focus!" He roared like a lion when he was angry.

The first time he'd shouted, she'd jumped. He had a helluva set of pipes on him.

The shouting had started to turn her brain to swiss cheese. Aya felt almost as if someone was pummeling her nugget from inside her skull. She pleaded, "Leon...please. I need to stop."

"Is she? No. So  _concentrate_!"

She started to turn, feeling the heat of the room, smelling the incense that was burning. She'd had enough. For hours he'd hammered on her, first physically to test her strength. And then mentally to test her faculty. And now this…this…verbal abuse. She was a stone's throw away from kicking his ass.

His shirt was plastered to his skin, his face slick with sweat. They were inside the dungeon he'd drug her to every day for five days. It was a warehouse in a bumfuck town called Blackwater in the godforsaken New York countryside.

It was so cold outside she thought they'd get hypothermia walking to the building from the hotel a half mile down the road. And then when they'd stepped inside.

It was like the fifth rung of the inferno. And they'd survived two fires, so she could compare. The heat was a living thing; breathing, cloying and killing. It smothered the lungs and the skin until you could barely function.

The first hour she'd spent in it with him had been like trying to survive inside a sauna. When she'd asked why the hell it needed to be so hot, he informed her that the majority of fights with B.O.W.s occurred in extreme weather. He wanted her to leverage the ability to fight in any conditions. He wanted to push her to her limits to see if her powers would stop the abuse of her system.

She shouted, "I'm tired! You pedantic ass! I need a break!"

"No breaks!" He swung a hook at her face. She ducked under it and delivered a kick to his knee. He reversed the move, hooked shins with her, and threw her to the floor with just his leg. "You can have a break when you win."

"So basically we kick each other's asses here in the blistering heat and then we take a nap?"

"Something like that, yes."

So they'd fought. And he admitted, at first, that he took it easy. After all, she was a girl. And he had more training than most people walking around on dry land. It was an unfair advantage.

After about ten minutes he tossed that chivalrous thinking into the gutter. She wasn't letting him take it easy. And she wasn't easy at all to take down.

She was adept, skilled, fast, frenzied, and very good at what she did. She had trained with some of the best around. She knew her stuff.

Basically, he'd spent the better part of a week trying to stop her from putting him on his ass.

It was lowering.

This was day five and he was so tired, so sore, so mentally and physically and psychically drained he thought he might lie down and die. She didn't care. She was out to kill him slowly and painfully. That was his punishment for trying to help her.

"You win, ok?" She hissed, "This time. I yield."

Something about her surrender snapped inside of him. He felt it give as if a rubber band had been cut. She touched his arm to surrender the fight.

His hand came up, encircled her throat. And he started to squeeze.

The admiration on her face faded quickly to shock and then descended into panicked fear. She struggled now, jerking against him, stomping her feet at his to break his hold.

She gasped his name, once, fighting with everything she had.

"Leon!" She felt the spots of color spill over her vision, she was close to passing out, "...stop."

There was just enough of him inside his skull to stop squeezing harder…but not enough to let go. It was painful to say even a few words for him. Brutally painful. "I can't stop. It's not me." It was the goddamn parasite in his body and the first time since Spain that he'd been afraid of it.

"Turn the rage, Leon, and the instinct to kill. One passion can be replaced by another."

Turn the rage. Turn the anger. Turn the urge. The urge. The urge to kill. Kill. Fight. Fight…

"...I can't."

She could see that. She could see how much pain he was in; horrible, terrible, crippling pain. He was choking her to death but fighting it and she knew his pain was a thousand-fold worse somehow.

Her free hand stopped trying to tear his from her throat. She brought it up and cupped the back of his neck. Turn the instinct, she'd said, turn the instinct. Humans had two instincts. Two base primal urges: Survive…and reproduce.

She pressed her mouth against his, hard.

With a hiss, he tossed her away. She stumbled and fell backward on the floor, scrambling up to run for the doors.

She could get to the door and they'd –

Leon grabbed a handful of her hair and drug her up. The pain in her scalp was like needles of continuous fire.

On her knees, she lifted her hands, palm out.

"Leon! It's me...I know you can stop this. Please?"

He balled up his fist and she saw the strain of the move in his biceps. They were rigid, steely. His arm trembled from holding back the punch.

Aya's hands moved, quickly, deftly. She fisted his hair in her hands and jerked him closer.

He yanked harder on her but he didn't stop her. "Use your powers, Aya...stop me."

It was incredible to feel compassion and pity for a man trying to kill her. What a world they lived in. She couldn't. Her powers? They seemed to act to  _protect him._ Not to fight him off.

His vision spilled red and he gasped, "I'm sorry...I  _can't."_

_His fist came for her face._

* * *

Leon sat up with a gasp. His hand shot out and knocked over the table beside him.

 ** _A dream._**  Again. Usually, the dreams had led to nowhere. Just passed memories or occasionally glimpses at other peoples lives. He was sure Rebecca had a reason for the psychological hoops she was having them jump through.

What was weird? They seemed able to share the dreams. Why? He'd seen Aya as a child - lost in the woods. He'd seen the moment she'd taken the bullet and lost her sight. She'd been in his head to feel his pain when the plagas lasers had tried to free him - and failed.

She'd been in his head to see him put Ada Wong against the wall and take her - that one time, that only time, after Tall Oaks.

He'd been in hers to see the grief when Kyle Madigan had left her at the altar.

Usually, it was the past - the recent and the old.

This was the first time he'd witnessed…the future? Or simply his own desires?

Rebecca greeted, energetically, "How'd it go? You two link up this time? I'm having trouble getting anything to register on my monitors so we'll just go with verbalizing it."

Aya sat up slowly beside him. She glanced over at him, "...you ok? You're flushed."

"Dude…" Kevin furrowed his brow, "You alright?"

Leon rolled his neck. "Peachy."

Rebecca nodded and turned to jot something down in the notebook on the table. The warmth of the room was stifling.

Leon slowly stood.

He had to get out of here. The heat, the incense, the dream…it was choking him. He moved toward the door to the outside and stepped out into the searing cold. It stole his breath, raped his lungs, and robbed his body of the need to faint again.

The door opened and she stood beside him. She handed him his coat and he slipped it on.

"Thanks."

"Of course." She met his eyes. "Where did you travel this time?"

"Nowhere."

She smirked a little. "You won't believe where I went."

"Justin Bieber concert?"

Aya snorted. "It was here actually...you were about to..."

He met her eyes, curious. It was the first time they'd linked in some kind of state to share a dream like that, "Kill you?"

Surprise echoed over her face. "...it's working. We're able to share certain things like that. The future?"

Silence settled over them for a long moment. He finally answered, "I almost killed you."

Aya shook her head, "No you didn't. It was a dream. You didn't hurt me. You've hurt me plenty kicking my ass the last few days but you've never, ever done that. You wouldn't. It's not who you are."

"...who I am. Who the hell knows anymore."

She stared in the darkness and answered, "I do. I know who you are. You're the guy who won't take me home and touch me because you're afraid it'll kill me. The guy who fights so hard he can't even focus anymore. You can't give in. And you need to. Give in with me. Make this easy."

Hell. The only way to fix that was, apparently, to have sex. Stopping sex with sex. Sure. Why not?

"What if that was what happens next?"

"It's these things in us. You know that. You afraid to fight them? Maybe I can protect you. You want to hide behind me, big guy?"

He thought, without missing a beat,  _I'd like to hide **in** you._

Instead, he snorted, "You're something else. You just call me a wuss?"

"Hmm. Did I?" She tilted her head, looking at his flushed face,"I wish sometimes we'd met when there wasn't something in us hungry for the other. But I can't do my job when I'm picturing you naked all the time. Are you gentle? Are you demanding?"

She studied him while he stared at her and finally decided, "Bit of both I think. I bet you taste as good as you look."

Welp...that worked. He was hard. He shifted where he stood. She was the strangest girl he'd ever met. She was like a dude but better. She was swift and strong and sexy. He dug her.

But it wasn't as simple as that either. It was so messy it was painful. Curious about it, he wondered, "Rebecca tell you about the others?"

"Yes. I can't link to anyone. I tried...with Helena."

He nodded, feeling sympathy, "Me either. Even Melissa. She tries. I try. Nothing. Rebecca tell you what she thinks?"

"...that it's because we're so busy fighting ourselves when we should just give in and get it over with. That we need to to get back to ourselves."

"...yeah." Gruffly, he shrugged, "There are a hundred reasons we shouldn't. I know that. I haven't been myself since I met you. I can't stop the mood swings. I'm getting worse. I keep running from it. But I'm so tired."

She glanced at him in the cold snow. She didn't look away. Everything in that dream felt real, most of it was...they'd been training for days. But the rest? Was he losing? Was he losing to the thing in him?

Would touching her make it worse? What if it made it  _better_? What if Rebecca was right? What if she was  _wrong?_

And she answered, "So stop running. Life is hard, Leon."

He blew out a hard breath.

"We don't know what happens if we do. You get that right?" He informed her with frustration.

Aya shifted, staring into the dark, "What if denying it is making this worse? What if the answer is to just...stop? Are you willing to try? You keep panicking. Stop. Look at me and answer. Are you willing to try?"

Again, she'd surprised him. "...I need to know you want me for me, Aya. Not because of this shit in us. It matters. I don't know why...but it matters."

He was the guy who didn't want to fuck a girl just because he couldn't help it. It mattered that she wanted him for him. How in the hell was it that he had to even ask her that?

"If this wasn't happening, I'd have never had the guts to ask you out. I don't touch men. I haven't touched one since Kyle. It's just not who I am. But even before this, I had a crush on the guy on that recording I listened to every night. How could you not? He was a hero. He's still just a man. I don't need a parasite in me to want you. I like you. I'm attracted to you. It's that easy."

He studied her face. "And the things in us? What if they take over? What if it's never us in that bed?"

She shrugged, "Indulging in it could be good or bad, depending. I don't want to block anything but I also don't want to open anything up that shouldn't be open. But what if it opens me completely? What if I'm able to track Eve because being with you opens some power I can't find in me yet? What if it opens you?"

Leon nodded, somehow seeing the wisdom of that. For the first time in his life, he wasn't going to sleep with a woman just because he could. It was an odd feeling. He said, softly, "Rebecca has theories on it. We can talk to her. It's messy, Aya. It's still messy. The dream...it was me hurting you again. I don't want to hurt you. What if I can't stop it when we start?"

He was such a good man under the edge of a warrior gone hard from loss. She wondered if he knew that after all this time. "You can. You did. You let me touch you, remember? You're scared. That's ok..."

Time to address the elephant in the room, Aya thought, "...with what happened to you -"

Leon made a sound of frustration, "That's irrelevant. I can't just..." He trailed off and tried again, "...just give in like that? I'm not made that way. What if we're wrong? What if I touch you and it makes us both like them? We end up dead because we're too busy making love? I just -I'd never forgive myself."

He was the guy who called it "making love". Not fucking. Love making. He was  _that_ guy. It was time to get away from him and give him the space he needed. Because the more they talked, the more she was starting to believe that the only way out of this mess, was through each other. He had to get there on his own. He had to decide it. And she needed to find answers.

She wouldn't find them here waiting for him to make peace with his demons.

Aya stepped back, "Take your space. I should partner with Kevin for a little while and go see Birkin again. Maybe he'll crack this time."

He hadn't. He was so mum. In custody, neither he nor Annette were talking.

Aya added, "Maybe Kevin can shake loose his tongue."

Leon sighed a little but nodded again. "I don't think you can teach that old dog any new tricks, kid."

Aya was silent for a long moment before she said, carefully, "Sex shouldn't be this hard, Leon...sometimes I wish I'd never met you."

He absorbed that and let it sting in places that had no name.

"But I can't regret it. It can be as simple as we let it -all of this- if you just...stop fighting."

"I know. I take on risks every day with what I do, Aya." He shook his head, looking angry again, "What's the right answer? Is it between your thighs?"

She was really, really, really hoping the answer was yes.

Aya shivered at the image…and then he pulled a Leon Kennedy…and effectively ruined the moment by saying, "Still...I wanna…shake you all night long." He even sang it a little at the end.

He had a nice tenor.

Aya laughed and turned back to the building. "How do you ever get laid with lines like that?"

It was a good question. "I have an enormous dick...goes a long way with women."

He was the funniest man she'd ever met, hands down. A pun without evening trying. Impressive.

Aya choked on her water. She tried. She really did. But she couldn't stop the laugh. "...I remember. The towel fell off once."

They both huffed out white clouds in the frigid air. Leon finally said, hoarsely, "That was meant to be a joke."

A little mad about him, Aya answered, "I know. I think the jokes on me... 'cause I want to know if I can fit that big fella in my mouth."

He slapped a hand over her mouth. He closed his eyes like he was praying for patience. Hers stayed level on him behind his hand. When he opened them again, she was watching him.

Leon told her, pleading a little, "You gotta stop talking to me like that."

She nodded, looking solemn.

He slid his hand away and she urged, "I know you want to do this right, Leon. I do too. I want to help my sister, but I can't do anything when you're by me. I can't even focus. We either need to let this happen or stay apart until it's over. You decide. I won't blame you for either."

He turned away from her to look into the dark. "How can you be so willing to risk everything?"

"Because sometimes you risk it all to win...I thought you knew that."

She left him in the cold. He stayed there, listening to the musical trill of the joy of the New Year celebration Times Square. The world was burning around them and celebrating at the same time.

He was trying to figure out how to fight something inside him and outside him. He was trying to figure out how to fight something by using parts of his brain that only dreams could access. He was trying to fight his attraction to a woman that might very well be the key to a future without fear.

He didn't know what the right thing to do was anymore. What if he was wrong about Aya? What if she wasn't the gun? What if he was? What if he was the bad guy in this story of theirs?

What if the thing in him made sure it all ended in fire and blood?

Would he have what it took to sacrifice himself to save the world?

Rebecca was a huge help - expanding their minds to help them find out what sort of powers might be harnessed from their parasites. But there was only rage inside him. The plagas was stealing his humor with its darkness.

How long did he have?

He rubbed the heel of his hand at his sternum watching the twinkling lights. However long it was? It wasn't long enough.

As Kevin stepped up beside him in the cold, Leon said softly, "Get me, George Hamilton. Have him work with Rebecca. I might need something to retard the growth of it. With Birkin gone mum, I don't have anyone else to help me. I need to-cut it out or burn it out or tamp it down...I don't know."

Kevin nodded. They didn't look at each other. They both watched the lights and heard the laughter in a city on the edge of a new year.

Finally, Kevin mused, "You'd make an ugly monster."

"Yeah? I'd still be better looking than you."

They both smirked. Kevin stuck his hands in his back pockets and said conversationally, "Aya must have a thing for bad hair and small dicks."

"So does your Mom...so I got that going for me."

Now they both laughed. Kevin finally looked at him and urged, "Don't wait until it's too late here, Leon. I think you're a bigger princess than a bad prom date, but the world needs you. Don't Darth Vader on us and go to the dark side."

Leon shook his head, staring into the dark. He knew how to stop the progression of the plagas. He knew George couldn't help. Even though he'd try. He knew Birkin wouldn't. There was only one other person in the world that could...and her help always came at a price.

He tapped a single word into his phone. The light reflected on his face in the dark.  _Where?_

After a moment a text blinked on his screen in return.  _Grand Central Station - 11:00 p.m._

He was about to make a deal with the devil to try to save the world.

He glanced out into the snow at the little blonde girl and her balloon. She waved at him, grinning. What would he pay to get rid of her?

Sometimes the price was your soul.

Rebecca poked her head out to look at him and said, "Leon? The hits finally came back on Helena. You might wanna see this."

He turned, he arched a brow, and he went back into the heat to learn the truth.

* * *

**9:23 p.m. -Federal Holding - Maximum Security - Rikers Island, New York**

* * *

William Birkin was a man with nothing to lose. He sat in the orange jumpsuit across from Aya and looked bored. His handsome face was drawn in lines of utter arrogance behind the little glasses he wore.

He'd said nothing, not a word, since his incarceration.

Quietly, Aya surmised, "You aren't professing your innocence here, Dr. Birkin. Why? Are you guilty? Did you willingly harvest organs from Megan Pearce after being involved in her inclusion in a program to imbue those organs with preternatural abilities?"

Birkin smoked the cigarette in his hands and stared at her. She was wearing a suit in dark gray. Her hair was pinned back. She looked like a lawyer. Beside her, Kevin wore a navy suit with the jacket left open and a crooked tie. He tapped his fingers on the table between them and the prisoner, watching Birkin with the eye of a man used to "good cop, bad cop".

Birkin finally decided he'd crack. He smiled, just a little, and remarked, "...You are more beautiful than I remember."

Aya tilted her head, "Have we met before?"

"Oh, yes. You were little. Your mother...she came to me because she couldn't have children. Back in those days, Annette and I were very much in the market of trying to conceive ourselves and so we were heavily involved in the fertility community. Mariko was afraid she'd lose her lover if she didn't conceive."

Aya stared at him as he spoke like he was weaving a web of intrigue around her. He was, in a way, even if the story he was telling was bullshit. "You helped her conceive me? As you helped your own daughter? Sherry is out there...a monster...attempting to conceive a monster -I need to know how to stop her. I need to know where to find her. Tell me how to access her memories, her thoughts."

Birkin shook his head, "It's not Sherry. Not anymore. We both know that...but I can't help you. I helped Mariko. I helped her conceive you."

Aya shook her head. She rose and gathered her notebook. "I don't have time for this. I have to find Eve before she hurts anyone else. I don't have time for story hour, Dr. Birkin."

"I helped her conceive you...and your sister."

Aya stopped gathering her things. "...Helena? We don't share the same mother."

He shook his head, watching her like a hawk now. "No. Maya. Your twin. Like Megan and Melissa...you're a twin. Two pieces of one soul. Split. Yearning. The only way to stop what's inside of you, Aya, is to find Maya."

Kevin laughed, "What is this? The Twilight Zone? How many damn children did you pervert? Tell us how to stop Eve. You caused this. You started this mess. Help us end it."

Birkin kept his gaze on Aya, "You know I'm right. All your life, you've known something was missing. It's Maya. Klamp kept Megan. Klamp needed another twin. He already had one...that was the price of conception for Mariko. It was Maya. She got you...and we took your twin."

No.

Aya pointed at him while her heart raced, "...you're lying."

"Am I? The power...it's so much stronger in the twin. Sherry...she was a twin. We lost her twin at birth. She didn't make it. But she was one. Our miracle baby...with a very special set of antibodies...it's why the brain took -Maya...was the first Eve. She was the first. She's still out there. Her body...it's out there. You can kill Sherry...it won't stop until you find Maya...until you kill  _Eve_."

Aya shook her head and demanded, "Why does Sherry look like me?"

Birkin laughed, he shook his head at her, "Haven't you figured that out? Derek Simmons had a project in Tall Oaks called the Replication Project. It was a cloning initiative. It was imperfect. It wasn't ready. Not in those days. But the ability to take DNA and create an embryo? That was there. I borrowed Simmons research and cloned the embryo we implanted in Mariko. Later, much later, he renamed it, Project Ada, to keep it under the radar. When he had...inspiration."

Aya felt the thunder behind her breast as she whispered, "...you cloned me."

Birkin nodded, looking unabashed, "Annette was sterile. She couldn't produce eggs that were viable...but Mariko wasn't. I fertilized her egg myself and I cloned it so Annette could carry it. Sherry looks like you because she's your sister too...and I'm your father."

It was almost as horrible a moment as one could imagine.

Denying him, Aya rose from her chair, "You're lying. Where is Maya? Where? Where is she? Where did you keep her?"

Birkin shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "I left Hans in charge of her. I knew she was weak. She wasn't going to survive. But something...he said something in her was different. Special. He contacted an old friend of his. He knew she'd be safe. I don't know where."

Aya turned away again, moving toward the door.

Aloud, Birkin called again, "But Klamp...he had a French mother. He spent some time in Paris after you were born with his sister. His sister was the head of a company you've come to know well."

Kevin spoke up, surprising Birkin, "Umbrella."

Impressed, Birkin nodded, "That's right. The Parisian branch of the Umbrella Pharmaceutical company. When things started to fall apart after the T-Virus, when Umbrella began to fall apart...she just disappeared. Hans was very quiet on the subject. I suspected...that he'd given Maya to his sister to hide."

Aya asked, quietly, "Where?"

Birkin shook his head, "I don't know. I can't tell you that. I can tell you her name but I want a promise."

Kevin laughed sharply, "You kidding? You were supposed to be the guy who changed the world. You used something that might have cured cancer to create monsters. And now you want...what? Clemency?"

Birkin shook his head and stubbed out his cigarette, "No. Not for me. For Annette. She didn't know. She had no clue what I was doing. She knew...about G. She knew that G had the potential to be weaponized. But she resisted. She was adamant. She's innocent. Promise me you'll see her go free. Promise me...and I'll give you the name. I've got nothing left to lose here, I promise you that."

Aya studied him and finally nodded, "Give me the name."

He leaned back in the chair and looked relieved. No longer arrogant...just relieved. She wasn't sure why...but she wanted to believe him about Annette. Maybe the other woman had just loved her daughter too much to consider the risk. Maybe she didn't know about the organs. Maybe she was just a woman in a horrible situation.

Maybe.

Birkin took her pen. He scribbled on her pad. And he turned it back to her.

She glanced at it and back at his face. In bold black ink, a single name stared up at her. Klamp's sister who was now in hiding somewhere:  _Marguerite_.

Quietly, Birkin called to her one more time as she went for the door. "You can fight the truth, Aya. You can pretend it isn't real but look at me -look at yourself- look at Sherry...and ask yourself what I've got to lose by lying."

The door closed. She leaned back against the wall. Her hands went to her face.

And she stood for a long moment in the dark trying to breathe.

She wasn't just turning into a monster - she was the child of one.


	18. Chapter 18

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**December 2014–**

**Chapter Eighteen:**

**The Freedom of Surrender**

* * *

**11:01 p.m. - Grand Central Station- New York -**

* * *

There was seldom anything as lovely as the old Grand Central Terminal. The vaulted ceilings of hand painted teal were iconic, as well as the architecture that had landed it as a National Historic Site. It was a good place for Ada to choose a meet. There was almost nothing in New York, minus the Statue of Liberty, that was thicker with tourists. She knew he wouldn't pull a gun on her or try to arrest her.

Leon stood at the terminal that flashed arrivals and departures. He listened to laughter and feet as people came and went. He watched kids annoy parents and teenagers race for the train to get back to Jersey. He tucked his hands into his thick jacket and considered the endless run of mankind. The human race refused to stand still. It refused to stagnate...what if it refused to evolve? Would they just...become dinosaurs?

Would they become extinct?

Was Klamp right?

Was this their extinction event?

Was the plagas and the thing inside of Aya...was it the next stage of evolution?

The fleece he wore was black and a personal favorite. It was paired with thick gloves and jeans as old as some of the kids running around the terminal. The hiking boots on his feet were waterproof - just in case he needed to run through the knee thick snow building up outside. In the low lighting of the long station, his hair looked dark.

And the voice behind him acknowledged it, "You're not nearly as blonde in the winter."

He didn't turn to look at her. She stepped up beside him in a thick red wool coat. It was long, classy, and reminded him of something a woman might wear to the opera. "Leon, long time, no see."

"Ada -still working for the bad guys?"

She shrugged delicately and smirked, "When it suits me...still playing hero?"

"When I'm not playing guitar, yeah."

She nodded, considering him. What was she looking for on his face? She stared at him so intently. "You want to know about the parasite- the plagas."

He said nothing. She gestured with her head for him to follow her. They shifted toward the lounge of the terminal. The quiet stretched around them as she lit a long cigarette and offered it to him.

He shook his head and focused his attention on the small tv above the bar.

Mouth twitching, Ada mused, "Pretending to be a good boy?"

"Not pretending, nope, New Years resolution to stop using things that are bad for me."

Her mouth slid up slyly, "Hmm. What's life without a little...risk?"

He glanced at her face, laughed dryly, and rolled his eyes, "Can the flirtation, Ada. What do you got for me?"

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small zippered black pouch. "The plagas in you resisted the laser in Spain. It might have died a natural death when it couldn't fuse to your spine after that...but you re-exposed yourself in the ESR."

Curious, he tilted his head. "How so?"

"You were unconscious...twice. How do you think?...You don't remember?"

He shook his head, denying. "It's fuzzy. I was checked when I got back...thoroughly. "

Ada shrugged, "You didn't think I escaped with the only dominant plaga, did you?"

He paused, narrowing his eyes at her. "...what are you saying here?"

"I'm saying the resistance needed another dominant male after Ivan. Your pal Buddy? He wasn't the only one that left the ESR with more than he bargained for."

Leon shook his head again and turned away, "They'd have found it, Ada. On all the tests, on all the scans...they'd have found it."

"Of course...but who was in charge, Leon? Who could have doctored your results to...keep you in check?"

He froze. She nodded as it crossed his face. She nodded again when she watched the truth settle on him. "Yes. Simmons. He doctored your results and cleared you for duty. Because he wanted you to bond to the plagas that was growing in you -slower, retarded because of your natural resistance... it doesn't matter, Leon. Eventually? The parasite wins."

Jesus.

He leaned on the bar and gripped it, bearing down to channel his frustration. "...I'm screwed." He said it so softly that even Ada felt bad for him.

She ordered him a shot of whiskey and the amber liquid swirled brightly even in the dim lights of the bar.

Taking pity, she leaned on the bar beside him, "Maybe not. If we can find a way to eradicate the parasite..internally. We can stop it's progression."

He shook his head again, "Ada...we both know the only way to stop it is to sever its connection."

She shrugged a little, "It's different in you. It's bonded to you differently. It's fascinating. Saddler...he wanted you infected for a reason, Leon. He knew you were likely to use the parasite in ways he couldn't even begin to guess at. You might be the only man in the world that could resist this damn thing forever."

He looked at her and blew out a sharp breath, "I'm already losing. Will whatevers in the case will help?"

Ada shrugged, "Theoretically. But it's not a perfect science here. But we can hope."

Leon nodded, "Right. Thank you."

Ada winked at him and leaned away from the bar, "The answer might be that little skinny thing you run around with."

Surprised, he turned to look at her as she leaned a little closer to him. "Aya?"

Her eyes lit up with happiness. "She does look like a blonde version of me in a way, doesn't she?"

He rolled his eyes again, "Narcissism is boring, Ada. What did you mean?"

"Her blood, your blood...find out what Chambers is thinking. I promise we're on the same page here. You're gonna find out that Derek Simmons was a bigger monster than even you could imagine. I just need to prove it." She waggled her fingers over her shoulder at him as she walked, "Get me a sample of your girls blood, Leon. That's the price for my help. Don't make me take it from her. I don't kiss nice..." She put her mouth to his ear and whispered the rest, "...but I'm sure you remember that."

He laughed, dryly, and rolled the shot glass with whiskey in his hand, considering. It wouldn't help. It wouldn't change anything.

But it might anesthetize the pain of knowing he was on borrowed time.

Leon picked up the shot and threw it back. It burned as it went down, comforting him.

Ada pressed a red, red, red kiss to his mouth while he stared at her. She adored, without words, that his mouth didn't even bother to pucker back. He didn't kiss her, but he didn't pull away wither. Such was the way the game had always gone.

"Play nice, Leon...and we both win."

"Leave her alone, Ada. Don't make this personal."

Her eyes twinkled happily as she waggled her fingers at him over her shoulder and moved toward the door. "Everything's personal with us, Leon. I thought you knew that. But this? This is just business. Don't make me use my claws."

She paused at the door and asked, "Who was your best friend as a boy?"

A strange question. He shrugged and answered, "I don't remember anymore. Why?"

"Did you have a favorite pet?"

She stared at him until he tilted his head, "Not that I recall. What's your game here, Ada?"

"When I was little, I spent some time in Germany. At the time, I didn't know that the castle I stayed in had belonged to Derek Simmons."

He paused. His brows winged up.

She nodded, "Yes. Later...I remember it only being the one place in the world I was safe. Did you ever feel safe, Leon?"

Leon laughed, dryly, "I can't remember the last time I felt anything but scared shitless."

Ada smiled softly. She tossed him something that he caught in his hand without thinking about it. It was a tiny little locket. Curious, he opened it to find a picture of a beautiful woman that resembled Ada.

His eyes lifted to hers. She remarked, "That's the only photo I ever had of the woman who birthed me. I can't remember anything about her. I don't think I ever really met her. But it was the only thing in the world that ever made me feel safe."

He held her gaze over the open locket. She was studying him so hard. Why? What was she looking for. Finally, she simply said, "It's amazing the things we forget and the things we remember. See you soon, Leon. Stay safe." And she just winked as she left him.

She would always be a mystery. He'd spend his life never unwinding her layers to find the truth.

He kept standing in the bar after she was absorbed back into the crowd. He should go. He should go and find the answers.

This story ended with him crippled or dead.

His own government had kept him infected with something to see if he'd turn into a weapon they could use.

Monsters were stealing his sperm to create more monsters with his face.

He was screwed. He kept getting deeper down into the muck without an end in sight. He should go and figure out how to climb out of the hell hole.

But first?

He gestured to the bartender for another shot of liquid courage.

* * *

**11:41 p.m. - Kennedy Residence - Front Porch**

* * *

He was slightly drunk when he let himself into his house. He tossed his keys on the kitchen table and opened the door to the back to let Dante out to do his business. He tossed his jacket haphazardly toward a chair and missed and made his way to the bathroom to take a piss.

He was washing his hands when the knock on the door drew his attention. Was it too much to ask for one single night of peace?

Annoyed, he swayed a little as he moved into the living room and opened the door.

On the porch, in the moonlight, Aya said, "...I got him to talk."

He thought: her hair looked silver in the spill of shadows. Amused with the poetic state of his inebriation, he almost laughed at himself. Then he zeroed in on her statement.

Leon tilted his head, "Birkin?"

"Yeah." She shrugged in her black leather coat, "Yeah. I can't be alone. I can go though if..."

"No. S'ok. Come in. Come on." He left the door open and went to the fridge, "You want a drink?"

"Yes. You kidding? Yes." She rubbed at her face and said, "Where'd you go?"

She bent over to pet Dante who woofed and licked her hands. He flirted at her, twitching his tail, until Leon gave him a dirty look and he returned to his bed - smuggly smirking. Damn dog. He was always judging him.

Aloud, Leon mused, "It doesn't matter. It didn't pan out. What did you find out?"

Aya laughed, darkly, "William Birkin is my father."

Leon froze, blinked, and offered her the two fingers of whiskey in the glass he held. She took it, threw it back, and laughed again, "Yep. Sounds stupid, doesn't it? I guess we know why she has my face now huh?"

_She does look like a blonde version of me in a way, doesn't she?_

His hand tightened on the glass he poured himself. "Tell me everything."

She did. All of it. What had Ada said? Derek Simmons was a greater monster than even he knew. Was it possible that Ada and Aya looked alike for the same reason? Was William Birkin the father of all of them? Had that been part of the deal for Simmons? That he shared the research as long as Birkin created his own...woman?

Shaking his head, Leon asked her, "Do you have a picture of your mother?"

"What?"

"Your mother. Do you have a picture of her?"

"I-of course." Aya opened her phone and flipped pictures. She lifted it to show him the photo of them all the previous Christmas. Mariko Brea was beautiful. Tall. Willowy. All legs and black shiny hair. The sly smile on her mouth was hard to mistake.

It was in the woman in the locket. Wasn't it? He was afraid to pull it out of his pocket and find out.

Quietly, Leon whispered, "Is your mother completely Japanese?"

Surprised, Aya answered, "No. Her mother was Chinese. Why?"

His stomach rolled. He turned and threw back the whiskey. It made his head spin a little. He was beyond buzzed now. He was headed into sloppy drunk territory. He was wrong. He had to be wrong. What was he thinking here? That Derek Simmons had had Birkin fertilize an egg for him from Mariko Brea's? That Ada was a creation by a man obsessed with her mother?

If he dug, would he find that Derek Simmons had once been in love with Aya's mother?

He was afraid that answer would be yes.

He was afraid Ada knew that Aya was her sister. He was afraid of why she was pushing them together. Why? What game was she playing? She wanted the blood to check for similar DNA, he was  _almost_ sure of it.

"What did your mother do, Aya?"

Brow furrowed, she answered, "She was an ambassador for Japan when she was younger. But she was just a house wife when I was born. Why?"

An ambassador. The type who'd likely met the future National Security Advisor at some summit. Was it that simple? Had Simmons become obsessed with her and created his own?

It got worse. So much worse. Because he was afraid he'd figured out all the ties from Helena to Simmons as well.

To stop the world spinning a little, he confessed, "Helena...how well did you know her husband?"

Surprised, Aya answered swiftly, "Her ex-husband? Hyde?"

Leon nodded and swayed a little. "Hyde Bohr. Did you know him?"

Aya shrugged, "I thought he was uptight. Helena and his marriage was a mess, but Helena liked wild impetuous men. She met him when she worked on a counter-terrorism task force prior to her secret service career. Why?"

Leon leaned on the sink to keep from swaying. "You know he was the reason she instigated the facilitation of the outbreak in Tall Oaks?"

She answered, sounding mystified, "I read the report. She didn't talk about it. But I know what little she told me. He died in Tall Oaks."

Leon answered, softly, "His clone did anyway."

She froze. She took a sharp breath, "He's alive?"

He nodded, "We started looking into photos of Helena with Derek Simmons and another man. We thought the man was Wesker, but it's Hyde."

Narrowing her eyes, she wondered, "That's doesn't prove anything. They might have all met before the outbreak."

He shook his head, "The photos were taken three months after Tall Oaks."

He caught her gaze in window above the sink as she denied it, "How? Why? What does that mean? Is Derek Simmons alive? Why does no one ever stay dead in your world?"

The million dollar question of the day. He didn't  _know._

Leon answered her, as best as he could, "I think it means she was being blackmailed all along. I think it means Bohr used her to help him and Simmons end the President. I think she might know more about what's happening than we think. We need to consider waking her up."

Aya shook her head, angrily, "You kidding? No. Her being asleep might be the only thing keeping her from mutating! I'll never consent to bringing her out of the coma. She's not involved. She might have been blackmailed, maybe that's true, but she wouldn't cover this up, Leon. She wouldn't. I  _know_ my sister. She loves me."

He lifted a hand to soothe her, "I know that. I agree with you. I knew her too, remember? She was scared, she was panicked, but she was good. She's not a bad guy here, Aya. But she might know where to find Bohr. And if we can find him, we might be able to determine how it all weaves together. Maybe she knows about properties he owned. Maybe Eve is hiding in one of those. I think we need to risk bri-"

She lifted a hand at him to make him stop. He did, watching her face in the glass. She put her face in her hands and breathed.

The silence dragged out until he finally filled the void by saying, "I'm so sorry. What can I do?"

Aya shook her head and lifted her face to the ceiling, "I'm not who I thought I was. No one is. I don't know what to believe anymore. All of these men playing god...why? I feel like I'm trapped on a merry-go-round that never stops."

She paced out of the kitchen and he turned to look through the window into the dark. He swayed where he stood, trying to find his center.

He wanted to protect her. He wanted to shield her. She was tougher than she could even imagine. Her world had crumbled, caught fire, and fallen apart on her in a handful of days. Everywhere they stepped, the quicksand sucked her further down.

How did she survive it? How did she keep going?

Her? Just her? But his pain didn't matter, it never did. He was a man who survived in spite of pain because all he knew how to do was protect others. It's just who he was.

He didn't know how to protect her. What could he do?

Leon started to turn and ask her. He turned toward her and she moved against him. Her hands slid into his back pockets. Her back arched and put them flush together. Aya whispered, "I don't want to think about any of this. I don't want to know it. I can't think anymore. Make it stop. Do you want it to stop? I need to know if you can take the pain. Can you take it? This time, can you take my pain?"

He was just loose enough to stop being afraid of anything. He was so goddamn tired of pushing her away. He'd take her pain and choke on it if it would free her.

He was drunk and it was courage that was born in booze.

His mouth said, "...yes."

"Then stop being afraid...and take me."

Leon's hands lifted and slid her jacket from her shoulders. It pooled on the ground. Her hands slid under his shirt and tugged. His arms went up, hers pulled it off him, and it joined the jacket on the floor.

Her shirt was next, thrown somewhere in the dark kitchen as he reached for her bra without waiting. It made a snapping sound as he released it behind her back. She rolled her shoulders and it slid down her arms. It pooled for a moment before it fell. Her breasts were heavy, full, the right size to fill his hands. She was short and strong and sleek.

Not Ada. Her body wasn't Ada's. It wasn't anyone's but hers. He didn't see anything else in the world when he looked at her...but  _Aya._

He told her, "I want to touch you everywhere."

Aya's skin sang as she raked her breasts against his naked chest. "Please. Me too. Now?"

"Now."

They kissed until she made a desperate sound to fill her lungs with air.

When they broke, Aya gasped, "Do you have -" He took her lips again and stopped the question. Moaning, she put her hands in the backs of his jeans to put her nails in his butt.

Whatever thought he'd had fell out his left ear and splintered. He felt her back bump against the counter as he turned her. The moonlight made her look like polished ivory. Did he have what?

But he knew what she wanted. Of course, he did.

As they broke again, he breathed, "Yeah. I have condoms. Yes."

"Yeah?"

"Yep."

Her feet weren't even touching the floor as he rubbed her butt and down the backs of her thighs and tortured them both. The soft scatter of hair at his nipples teased hers until they peaked for him. The dampness he'd left from his mouth made them tighten more with each stroke of skin to skin.

Her hands roved over his belly and the taut muscles there. When she touched him, he sucked in a breath and she was able to follow the ridge of each abdominal. What was there? Six? A hundred? Her mouth lowered enough to lick down the center of his chest.

Leon grunted and his voice broke as he begged, "...tell me you're on something. You're on something, yeah? Yeah?" Her teeth nipped at this belly button and his voice squeaked, delightfully, "Holy hand grenade tossed in a pit of perverts."

And just like that, he made her forget about the world beyond this room. The humor of him, the heart, the incredible sense of justice and the empathy he had for those he desperately tried to save...she didn't need a parasite in her to crave him anymore. Letting go of the fear was almost as good as the drink she'd shot back before they'd started.

They kissed until she literally couldn't breathe and had to let go of him.

She laughed, lightly, and grabbed the waistband of his jeans. Her tongue licked along the band of skin behind his belt and had his eyes crossing,"I started birth control about a week ago...but I just...I wanted..."

Her tongue almost touched the weeping head of his dick and he made a sound like someone had poked him in the butt. He pulled her up and kissed her wetly.

"Tease. Pill? Check. Good. Yep. Don't care."

Leon propelled her backward while she laughed breathlessly.

She bumped him against the door frame as they haphazardly tried to get out of the kitchen down the hallway. His hand groped her over her jeans, the heel of it rubbing until she damped the denim with a mewl. Aya made a sound of frustration when she couldn't get around his hip under his belt to touch the throb of his needy erection.

He got what she was trying to say. He pressed her into the wall to kiss her again before they reached the bedroom. When she was pliable and gasping, he wondered, "A week ago? You been planning to jump my bones that long?"

She laughed hoarsely and answered, "I should have done it that first time we met. Maybe it wouldn't be killing us now. I was so afraid. I'm not anymore. I can't be. I don't know how this ends...but I can't wait anymore."

His hand slid down her belly and he muttered, "Me either. Aya...let me feel you. Please?"

He had to ask? She nodded, swirling in the madness of it. "Leon..."

He paused, stroking the ring in her belly button with his thumb, "...yeah?"

"...nothing. I just wanted to say your name."

He kissed her as an answer.

Her body trembled. Her breath seized. She reached for his belt. It whipped with a cry of leather as she jerked it free. His hand slid under the waistband of her jeans and into her panties. She got three buttons of his fly undone and he slid his fingers through her slick folds to find her. She gasped. Her hands grabbed for his wrists to hold on. Her mouth mashed on his. He shifted his other hand to the back of her neck and held her while he delved his digits into the heat of her.

His thumb slid up. His first two fingers plunged. Her mouth opened on a soft gasp and she bucked into him. Her hands shifted. They slid down his back to grip his ass. She jerked him toward her.

He wasn't sure how he knew that wouldn't work for him, but he grunted, "No." His hand stopped. Hers did too. His eyes closed and he rolled his forehead against hers, roughly, "...hang on. Just...hang on. I'm so drunk. The rooms spinning...just...I'm sorry."

And she just  _knew_ what he needed.

She just knew.

Her hands let go of his ass. They slid up the wall above her head. She cupped one wrist with the other and whispered, "It's ok. Look at me."

The thing in him was so pretty somehow. It was shimmering purple in his chest. It was lovely when it had once scared her. He'd scared her once too. Now? What was between them...scared him. "Open your eyes, Leon. Look at me."

He did, slowly. The shame hurt her to see. Why? What was he ashamed of? This? Them? Or that he'd let someone take this from him because he'd wanted it to be her?

Softly, Aya told him, "Hold me down."

Surprised, Leon leaned back from her. He started to pull his hand away and she shook her head, "Don't. Please. Don't stop. Hold my hands down. Hold me here and touch me. I want you to. Touch me. Please."

His wild brain said:  _Dude, she deserves so much better than you right now. Give her what she needs._

His left hand slid over hers and pinned her wrists above her head. She made a small moan in her throat and nodded. She was offering herself to him. She wasn't taking. She wasn't hurting or hating or denying. She was offering.

She lifted her mouth to nip at his and added, "Whatever you need. Do you understand? Whatever you need."

He gave her what she needed too.

He plunged his fingers into her. Her hips bucked. Her mouth opened on a shout of need. He pinned her to the wall and fingered her while she writhed. His mouth helped itself to her breasts, her lips, the swell of her belly and the valley above his hand.

He told her, "...you feel so good. Slick. Tight."

Aya felt her thighs quake with the impending orgasm. She gasped, "Wet. I told you I was wet for you."

His thumb rolled lazily over her clit as he returned, "All the time?"

"...yes. God, yes. I'm gonna go if you don't stop."

"Not yet."

He touched his tongue to where his fingers stroked her. Just a flick. Just a tease. Just enough to make her start quivering like she had a fever.

When she tightened around his thrusting fingers, he pulled his hand free of her. His mouth retreated. He slung her over his shoulder to carry her into the bedroom. She thought he'd toss her or dump her or slap her ass and torture her.

And he spilled her over his shoulder into his arms to hold her like a hero as he laid her down like she was fragile.

Her heart stuttered in her chest. He kissed her over it and made her eyes tear. There was nothing forcing them to touch. It was just their own greed and stifling desire. They were no longer possessed by anything but themselves.

The time had come, it seemed, to possess each other.


	19. Chapter 19

_**A/N:**  Lemon...lemon and conspiracies...lemon and limping toward the mystery again...seemingly..._

* * *

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**December 2014–**

**Chapter Nineteen:**

**The Things We Can't Deny**

* * *

**Off Shore Lab - Main Experimentation Chamber - 2013**

* * *

The pristine glass reflected echoes of the monitors around it. It flashed blue and purple and white. The thing inside it was full of the future. Pulsing, stinking, the smell muffled by the container in which it found itself.

It burped. It bubbled. The top made a sound like a wet belch as it split and a hand began to ascend through the ectoplasm to the surface. A familiar hand. It was one she'd recently enjoyed on her body.

Horrified, Ada shook her head. "We are beyond sympathy here."

Above her the speaker echoed back her own voice, but from pipes that had never been in her body. The fake. The phony. The fool-  _Carla._ Who'd thought all along she was the real Ada Wong.

_"Witness my greatest creation yet. Perfection - achieved."_

Ada lifted her gun on the tank. "We are beyond humanity here." Her finger eased down on the trigger and the head and shoulders emerged from the stinking egg. Above her, her own voice announced, " _Without flaw. Without fail. With ultimate success for transplantation. To become a king. To become a dictator. To stop a rebellion. To save a city. Hero or horror...the choice is yours."_

The face that joined the shoulders stared at her through the glass. Not a monster. Not a mutant. It wasn't Deborah. This one? It was human. It was flawless. It gasped, shaking, "Ada?"

It was  _aware._

Ada shook her head. She said, "I'm sorry. It's mercy."

And her voice returned to the speakers,  _"The pieces are already in play. What should I do?"_

Her finger stalled on the trigger as Wesker's voice joined hers,  _"Prepare the replacement._ "

Simmons voice floated into the recording, " _What of the other? The **real**  one?"_

Wesker answered, coolly, " _Eliminate them. We can collect all we need from the body."_

She needed to destroy it. She needed to destroy it all. But she lowered the gun instead.

She left the lab in flames. She buried the project. She closed the door on the horror of what they'd done.

But she didn't leave the lab alone.

* * *

**12:14 a.m. -Kennedy Residence- Master** **Bedroom - 2015**

* * *

Leon leaned up to see Aya's face in the moonlight. She was so pliant. She was so perfect. Her pretty breasts. Her perfect concave belly. She was in good shape - lean and honed. Her arms were sleek from constant attention.

He wanted to see all of her again. He needed to. Leon informed her, "I need to touch all of you."

She adored him. Desperately. And she consented with a nod.

He took her boots. He took her jeans. His hands skimmed over the insides of her thighs and along her calves. His mouth kissed at the tender place where her panties touched the crevice of her leg and groin. He kissed her belly button and tongued the little ring there.

Her hands hooked over the headboard and clung. She didn't touch him. Her breathing was sharp and fast. His mouth was slow and tender. He licked at her nipples. He sipped at her lips.

Her panties were peeled down her legs slow enough to torture and thrill her.

Gasping, she told him, "You can tie me down. If you need to, you can tie me down."

He shook his head. The offer of that alone was enough.

But he instructed, gently, "Open your thighs and let me see you."

It made her dizzy.

Nervous, trembling with need, she did. She opened herself to him. They both knew what it cost. He rolled up her body to kiss her and promised, "I won't hurt you."

Shaking, she whispered, "Can I..." She trailed off and he encouraged her, gently, "It's ok."

"I want to see you." Softly. Sweetly.

He dropped his jeans to the floor without another word.

The need for him would crush her before he could. He brushed the backs of his fingers against her mound and watched her face. He dipped a kiss to her belly to see her tremble.

He slid onto the bed atop her so they could feel each other completely. Aya thought - that was it. That was what it was. It wasn't greed and lust and loss of self - it was this. Him. He was the guy who said making love when he could have said fuck.

To him? This  _mattered._

He kissed her, eyes open, watching her face. She echoed it, utterly and completely surrendering. He was hard and hairy and smooth somehow even among it all. He was dense and dark and deliciously male atop her. They both enjoyed the feel of him against her from tits to toes.

Aya breathed, shaking, "Damnit."

"...what?"

"It's better than I'd imagined."

"Yeah?"

"Oh,yeah. I'm so into you."

Leon pressed a smooth kiss to the hollow of her throat, "...we'll drown together."

Hadn't she offered the same thing once? He tasted like whiskey and want. She begged, "Let me taste you."

But he denied her, "...not yet. Soon. I need you to let me have you."

She was going to die craving him.

He settled between her thighs to taste her. Her legs parted to welcome him, his arms slid beneath them to open her, and he feasted on her body like she was the only thing in the world that would sate him. His palms flattened on her hips and groin to guide her to his mouth.

His tongue was a wizard, casting a spell even as it curled into her flavor. She was mesmerized, watching him like she couldn't look away. His hands slid up her belly to palm her breasts as he pleasured them both.

There was no rush, no race, no rage...no rape.

Just them.

She warned him, "...I'm too close."

He didn't wait. He wanted her to go.

She crested, almost quietly, wetly, with a whimper of his name as her thighs clenched against him. He leaned up while she jerked, shivering as her body orgasmed and turned red at the edges with release. His fingers slid into her to feel her go.

His other one reached for the nightstand beside the bed.

Testing her, and him, he fingered her harder and faster. Her hips rolled. Her mouth opened on a small keen. Her thighs spread like an offering. He dropped the little package beside her hip to hold her down with a hand splayed across her pelvis as he plumbed the wet of her to watch her yield. There was some kind of desperation on her face that had him demanding, gruffly, "What do you want?"

Gasping, she humped crudely at his hand even as she begged, "...harder-oh god... _harder..."_

_She was perfect._

Exquisite, he thought desperately, she was eager and giving and begging. Her body bowed. Her head back. Her eyes closed. She clenched around his fingers and let go...and she never released the headboard above her. She never touched him...she just let him touch her.

He transferred the hand holding her down to the base of her throat. Her eyes flared as his fingers curled there - not hurting, feeling, he was feeling the pulse in her throat pound as he plunged his digits into her heat. Tender, raw with her recent orgasm, and engorged - she was highly sensitive. Too sensitive to last long. Aya felt her breath fall out in a small whine as she gasped a warning at him, "... _I can't._ "

A corner of his mouth winged up into a wolfish smile as he instructed her, "...you can. Let me see you go."

Damn it.

He leaned over her to kiss her, eyes open and watching her face. He saw the flush spread across her cheeks. He watched the sweat spring on her chest and face. She rode his fingers like she'd swallow his hand into her and make them one.

Thighs shaking, eyes flickering, she pleaded, "...kiss me. Please? Now."

He did, fascinated by her. She never once let go of her own self induced restraints. To help her find her release, Leon rolled his hips against his hand, curled his fingers into her one more time, and didn't let go of her eyes as he felt her seize painfully around him with the first hard rush of release. Aya bucked, quaking, and cursed against his mouth in a high pitched plea.

He coveted her as her body released his delving fingers. She flopped, boneless, sweaty and breathless. Her eyes opened like pale slits in the moonlight to watch him. The package crinkled as he tore it open with his teeth.

She breathed, "I want to taste you too."

And he answered, gruffly, "Not yet. Not Now. I can't wait. Say yes."

"Oh, yes. Yes. Please."

Her legs opened for him. Her mouth opened for him. He angled himself into her body to claim her. He angled his tongue into her mouth to take her.

His fingers curled over hers on the headboard.

Her legs hooked at his flanks to anchor her to him.

The sheets rustled as he slid into her - soft, smooth, slow. She let go of his mouth to gasp, "Oh, god..."

He said nothing. But his breath hitched as he went in and out again. Her body clenched. Her body welcomed him. She was warm and wet and waiting. Their fingers blended together. Their bodies mended together.

She was still tight and swollen from her last orgasm. It was like he'd thrust a rod of electric pleasure into her straight toward her belly button. The first thrust of him into her that wasn't restrained was loud. It slapped and brought a sound of desperation out of his mouth. She wasn't the only one trying to hold on here.

He wanted to kiss her but he was too tall at this angle. Her mouth brushed his chest and kissed him over his heart.

Undone, Leon closed his eyes and lost his rhythm. Faster. Harder. More desperate. Aya made a small cry of need and gasped, "Please. Please."

Please, what?

He caught her face to pull her up. Her hands slid off the headboard. He caught them to hold them behind her back with one of his. His body tilted hers to slide over his knees, putting her in his lap as he braced her against the headboard to use her faster.

In his lap, her face was able to turn toward him. He kissed her, the hand not holding her hostage slid against her chest. He laid his palm between her breasts to feel her heart race.

She bucked and rolled her hips. The slick wet of her invited him harder, deeper, tighter. He wanted to ditch the goddamn condom and feel her around him. It angered him enough that he slid his hand down her belly as she rolled and rode back against his thrusting.

He tucked his fingers against her clit, stroked twice, and felt her go. She gasped and jerked. She bounced on his lap. He angled her against the headboard and plowed her hard enough it made her cry out. The second he did it, the thing in his body just...sent blood rushing all over his body. It liked him taking her. It liked him using her.

He started to slow and she begged, "No! Oh, don't! Don't stop. Ok? Don't."

Leon's free hand grabbed a handful of her hair and forced her mouth up. He almost growled it now, "What do you  _want_?"

And she begged again, "...stop holding back and  _fuck_ me."

Yeah. That's what they all wanted. Him. Her. The things that bound them. Everybody wanted a good hard fuck.

He took her mouth and used his hips to force her thighs wider for him. She grunted and bucked. She arched her body against him and mewled. He put one of her nipples between his teeth, sucked it hard into his mouth, and watched her cry out and cream all over him.

It was more than enough.

Angry, he hissed into her ear, "I want to come in you."

And she whimpered, gasping, "...you can. You can. Do it. It's safe."

 _Siren._ He jerked on her arms, she gasped in pain and excitement, and he tried to fuck a hole out of her back with his need. She turned her mouth to his neck and just...screamed. She pleaded, high and sharp, "Harder."

They were both so sweaty that their skin slipped and slid against each other. Her voice cracked as she offered, jerking against him, "...you-oh god-you can put me on my face..i-if you want..." Her speech descended into nothing small desperate gibberish sounds.

Her back struck the headboard and sent it against the wall with a clap and slap as he let go of her hands to grind her on him and grunted, "...No. No. I want to watch your eyes when I come."

Shit.

Somehow he'd thrown romance at her without even trying. Aya reached desperately over her head to grip the headboard and brace herself. It angled her spine back enough that she was at his mercy. He crushed against the end of her, brought her mouth open on a keen of desperation, and she whimpered, "...take it off, ok? T-take it off so I can feel you."

... _siren._ She wanted him to fuck her bare back. He could almost  _feel_ her through the damn condom. He imagined what it would feel like. He imagined that wet heat his fingers had claimed making a home for him inside her and the walls of her body demanding his release to fill her full of him.

Her mouth opened and whined, begging, "...please... _Leon.."_

And he was done.

He put his mouth against her neck and let himself go with a hoarse grunt, "... _fuuuuck..."_

He came hard enough in the condom that he was afraid he'd torn the damn thing apart with the force of it. The headboard smacked the wall hard enough to leave a dent in the drywall. She kept wiggling against him like she was having a seizure. Her mouth was open and just constantly keening high and sharp.

He plowed her through his release. He bowed her back tugging on her arms and just destroyed her through the thunder in his blood. She humped against him as if she'd never get enough. She was wet all over his lap. She was making him insane with it. He wanted to  _feel_ it.

When it was over, he let go of her. She fell back on the bed as he rolled away. Aya watched him, gasping, thighs twitching. She was half convinced he'd leave her there and storm out.

He was so angry.

Because they'd given in?

She watched him snap the condom off and toss it in the trash beside the bed. She watched him seethe and yank up his jeans; unbuttoned but hanging around his hips. She lay placid and used on the bed, panting.

Quietly, she wondered, "Why are you so angry?"

And he left her alone in the bedroom without an answer.

Aya curled her arms over her breasts. She rolled to her side on the bed and stared at the window. Wanting her angered him. She couldn't blame him. It wasn't anything less than terrifying for her either.

But it wasn't going to die. It wasn't going to go away. It was done now. It was over.

They could finally move on and start assembling the pieces of the mess around them.

She heard him come back into the bedroom. She could smell the cigarette smoke that lingered in the air around him. She waited for him to kick her out, but he didn't. She heard the rustle of denim and the clink of metal. She felt the bed shift.

His body slid against hers. He spooned against her back and one hand slid to her hips to press the curve of her butt against his groin. She murmured and turned her head, his moved to intercept her and they kissed over her shoulder.

She kept her arms around her breasts and didn't touch him and he shifted her until her head was pillowed on his bicep. He cuddled against her back while she trembled. She felt him tug the comforter over them before she finally spoke, "...I thought you'd left me."

He pressed a kiss against the back of her neck and answered, "I had to let the dog out...and I needed a cigarette. I didn't used to smoke, you know. Turns out gum doesn't take the edge off of nearly dying like it used to."

"Smoking does?"

"If it's mixed with whiskey."

Her heart ached a little for him.

She gazed at the face of an acoustic guitar in the small chair beneath the window. The neck of the guitar looked well loved. There were scuff marks on the edges of the fat belly. She tilted her head a little and wondered, "Do you play a lonely guitar, Mr. Kennedy?"

His mouth settled by her ear as he answered, "Sometimes. Sometimes I play in an old guys garage band with a few other guys."

The piano in the living room made sense now. He was the type of man who was soothed by music. Was it him she'd heard the day in the RPD lobby? Was he the one playing the grand old piano on the main floor waiting area?

She'd been short on time that day, or she might have gone in to see. She might have met him then when they'd just been...normal.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. He was unfathomable. He was unpredictable. She was a little afraid she was in love with him - after a handful of days. So she said, "Will you play for me sometime?"

He pressed a kiss to the top of her shoulder and answered, "If you like."

Her heart thumped as Aya replied, "...what do you want, Leon? From me?"

"I don't know. Right now? I want to drown in you. Say yes."

"...yes. Whatever you need."

* * *

**12:45 a.m. - Raccoon City Cemetary-**

* * *

Ada leaned on the wall of the crypt with her eyes closed. This was it, she thought, this is how it had to happen. She'd pushed him tonight. She knew it meant he'd get drunk. She knew a drunk Leon was a handsy one.

She'd seen the girl roll up and go inside.

She knew what it meant.

It was a curious thing to know she was a little resentful even as she was glad. It was necessary. She needed him at the top of his game. Leon Kennedy fought harder when he had something to fight for.

He'd love her. The girl was beautiful, dedicated, loyal and funny. He'd fall for her, if he hadn't already. It was how he was built.

She'd gotten rid of most of the other possible loves for him. She'd railroaded Claire Redfield when she'd started sniffing around him after Tall Oaks. She'd gotten rid of Harper with a scandal before she could chase him. She'd made sure that Hunnigan understood that flirting with him would be her mistake. In Harvardville, a quit push of that ridiculous Angela had put her in the hands of much more available a man before he could get too close. When he'd tried to love even her, Ada had made sure to keep him at arms length.

Where Leon walked, ladies lingered. It had been a constant struggle to keep them off him all these years. Occasionally, she lost the battle and he bedded one here and there. That was fine. Sex was simple and done.

The reporter had lasted in a relationship with him for almost eight months. The longest of his life. But she'd been easy to pay off and get rid of. She'd been a bitch and he'd cut her loose, over and done.

It had to be Aya Brea. That was just the way it was. It wasn't just that they shared DNA, although Birkin wasn't Ada's father, the mother was the same. Sisters was the wrong word. She wasn't sisters with anyone.

She'd grown up an unwanted orphan in a dirty alley. She wasn't anyone's "baby girl".

But there was a benefit to discovering she wasn't the only one who'd been engineered. Simmons, that dirty old fuck, had tried to make her into his plaything. He'd found out quickly that she was no ones toy. He was such a colossal pervert, she suspected he was her father as well. He'd created a child of his own to fuck. She'd enjoyed his death more than anyone would imagine.

The rumors said he might still be alive. A clone had died in China? She was hoping that was true. She really, really, really was. She wanted to watch his face as she gutted him.

But now the time had come to start pulling the strings on Leon like she'd been doing all these years. It was time to turn him toward the final showdown. She needed him to get to the point that all he had was on the line.

It was how she made sure he was protected. There were so many pieces in motion. Could she protect him? Wesker would start to sniff out her agenda soon enough. How did she stop him?

Everything he thought he knew, he was  _wrong._

She needed Aya Brea's blood. She needed her body. She needed her unwitting cooperation. It was the only way to make sure that Leon Kennedy didn't end up six feet under.

The answer? It was in the beginning of all life.. _.the mitochondria._

* * *

_**Tall Oaks - Subdivision Sector - FOS security center -2004** _

* * *

_The long dark whispered. The echoes of things that had no name. The promises of pain that had no end._

_From the darkness, a man emerged with a walking stick. He used it to propel himself forward quickly. He paused only once to speak softly to no one. His mind was going, sharply, quickly. He was out of time._

_He stopped at the door where a beautiful woman in glasses was sipping coffee before a computer screen. She turned and the stark simplicity of her beauty was left apparent to the blue light behind her._

_"What did they say?"_

_The man shook his head, "No luck. No hope for it. It's Type M."_

_Her hand flew to her throat. She shook her own tightly bound dark head in return. "No. Type M? How is that possible? Everything, all of it, all the data...it said Type M was a mistake. It was an aberration. It had only been documented ONCE by that shaman nearly before the birth of Christ. I don't understand. How did it survive?"_

_The man with the walking stick glanced away into the dark and back to her face, "It was kept inside that cave. The first of the castellans must have kept it...contained. It was never a threat. Ever. Because it had to...bound on a cellular level. It had to choose its vessel. It chose no one. Not a single one...until now."_

_She wanted to deny it. She wanted to object. It was all over her beautiful face. But she whispered, "Does he know?"_

_"No. Telling him...it won't help. It won't change anything. We need to see what it can do, Hunnigan. We need to know. We need to leave it inside of him."_

_She looked horrified. She rose from her chair. "Mr. Simmons...he'll mutate. It will kill him. You can't leave it in him."_

_"I can and I will. And you'll tell him nothing. You are under a gag order, Agent Hunnigan. I expect you to hold your peace."_

_Hunnigan shook her head. She sat back down. She glanced at the screen, "You want me to never tell Agent Kennedy that he's infected with a rare and potentially fatal parasite?"_

_"Exactly. Need to know, Hunnigan. There is no need for him to know." The weasley face of Derek Simmons backed away from her office. Hunnigan shifted in her seat and called, "Sir!?"_

_He paused and arched his brows, "What is it?"_

_"Type-M...what does that mean? We know of one through three...but what's the M for?"_

_"It's cellular. It's a powerhouse of the cell, Agent Hunnigan. It's the life inside of us all. These plagas? They are born from **mitochondria.** "_

_Hunnigan shook her head looking miserable. "What does it mean for Leon?"_

_Simmons laughed and madness sparkled in his eyes, "It means from this moment on...he's **family.** "_

* * *

**3:11 a.m.. - Kennedy Residence - Master Bedroom**

* * *

Aya awoke with a start. She was sweating. She was breathing fast and sharp.

The dreams...they were different now. They were changing. What was she dreaming? What had she seen? Was it real?

He was in the chair in the moonlight playing his guitar - naked.

She wanted to ask him about the file she'd seen. She wanted to ask him about Type -M. Was he aware of what it meant? Did it mean mitochondria? Did it mean that what was in him was somehow directly connected to what was in her?

She might have - but he started singing as he played.

She went so still and closed her eyes, listening. He hummed a lot. He didn't know she was awake. He didn't know she was aware. She listened to him play and sing and she couldn't, for the life of her, ruin that moment. He needed it - and she? She needed  _him._

He was the guy who risked everything...to save just one.

What if she found out he was a clone after all? What if he wasn't the real Leon Kennedy? All the world was full of people who weren't who they thought they were. If he wasn't, would it change anything for her?

After listening to him, after hearing the lament of a man like this...would it _matter_?

She knew the answer was no. She knew that. She'd probably kill the real Kennedy to protect the one beside her. Aya finally let her eyes drift open to find him watching her. So he was aware of her after all.

His fingers strummed, his voice hummed, his words swirled around her like magic - and she put her hand out to him in the dark. He rose, the thing in his chest was somehow purple and pretty and calm, just another part of him...and he took her hand.

She rolled to her belly. He slid onto the bed above her. She felt his hands on her butt, on her thighs, on the backs of her legs. Her hands shifted to grip the headboard again. He lifted her hips toward him.

She heard the package rip. She listened to the condom being slid on his shaft. His fingers dipped into her, seeking. She mewled softly and bowed back toward that touch. When she was damp and moist and ready, he mounted her from behind.

Her mouth opened on a soundless cry, her hips rolled back to greet him. His hands smoothed down her back to grip atop hers over the headboard rails. He held her there while he took her. The wet strike of their bodies was somehow music when the music stopped.

_When the music stops..._

He flicked the thought away. He turned her face to the side and claimed her mouth with wet, needy kiss. His hands cupped her breasts and kneaded them while he claimed her. She let him. She just...submitted.

There were no monsters leaving him dead in a pool of his own blood.

There was just the woman beneath him who asked for nothing - and gave it all to him freely. His hand joined the plunging joy of his body into hers. It skimmed. It stroked. It brought her bucking back against him as she came, wetly, leaving his hand slick from her.

And he followed her into the dark with a desperate gasp of her name.

* * *

**3:11 a.m. - The Hive- Secure Treatment Chamber**

* * *

Melissa awoke with a hand between her legs. She gasped, spine bowing, as her body exploded with pleasure. Sweaty, gasping, she flopped back on the mattress shaking

What kind of dream was this? What did it mean? She knew who  _he_ was, but who was she? She wasn't herself. It wasn't her name he'd gasped as they'd come together to finish. Who was  _she?_

The other woman at the opera. The woman who'd made Melissa...awaken? Is that what they were calling it?

What did it mean to share her body during a moment like that? The hand between her legs touched herself, checking, almost clinically. She was wet, but she wasn't used. Was it just a dream?

Why did it feel so real?

The voices in her head filled the silence in stirring whispers, " _...awaken...him."_

Melissa denied it, making a small sound of fear, "...who? How? Please...I-I-can't.  _Please."_

The vice inside her skull clamped down. Her spine bowed again in horrid, continuous, excruciating pain. She screamed out for mercy.

But there was no answer in the dark.

* * *

**3:41 a.m.. - Kennedy Residence - Master Bedroom**

* * *

When he knew she was sleeping, Leon lay on his back looking into the shadows. It was done. It was sated. It was satisfying. It could be as simple as that. They'd fucked. It was over.

Fucked. He was. He'd known it the second she'd rolled on him in that SUV. He was fucked. He just wasn't blase enough to distance himself from sex unless it was only a single night. He never had been. He tried, but he wasn't a guy who could fuck without feelings - not more than once. Not when he'd taken the time to get close to a woman.

She murmured in her sleep. She rolled toward him. Her hands slid against his chest and her face nestled at his neck. He never ever cuddled a woman after sex. Ever. What was this?

His phone beeped a text message. He picked it up to squint in the dark.

_Well done - now end it._

Someone was  _watching_ them. Someone knew they'd been together. Why? Why was the world conspiring to put them in this bed together?

His guts seized. His arm curled around Aya to hold her against him as if he'd shield her. What did that mean? What game was she playing here? Was it Ada? The number was different.

He'd been running around like a boy with a crush. He needed to remember he was a man with a gun. It was time to stop trying to fuck himself stupid and start using it. She tilted her mouth to kiss the line of his jaw and murmured, "You ok?"

He should get out of this bed and start finding answers. He never ever slept with a woman after they had sex.

Why did she matter so much?

He didn't know. But he was tired of the world trying to crush her. Whatever else was true, he had feelings for her. He was going to fight for her and for all the people who'd been pawns in a game he couldn't even begin to understand.

She mattered.

That was all he knew.

He turned into her arms, wrapped her close and stared into the shadows like he'd save her from them. He just didn't know how to save  _himself._


	20. Chapter 20

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**December 2014–**

**Chapter Twenty:**

**The Missing Link**

* * *

**8:10 a.m. - Kennedy Residence- Master Bedroom**

* * *

Was this what life looked like with him in it? Music? Quietly waking to find him inside you and rising with the sun to hear him around you?

With the sheet barely curled over her hips, Aya lay on her side listening to him play. He'd been so humble about how good he was. He was better than good. The piano filled the quiet house with such a beautiful, soft, and rolling melody that she felt her heart yearn a little.

There was something so sad about what he played. It was mournful in a way that spoke of a kind of pain she could only feel for him. She understood it. Was there anyone who understood it better?

Clutching the sheet around her, Aya rose and moved down the hallway.

She paused at the entrance to the living room to watch him. He was a man who played the piano in his just sleeping pants. It shouldn't have made her feel like it did, warm in places that were all her. She listened inside her head for a moment - but the voices there were silent. The boiling in her blood was calm. The eye that spoke to her was...content.

She couldn't blame it. Watching him, she was content as well. She leaned her head on the door frame to covet him a little. His eyes were closed as he played. He didn't need to see to feel the music he was making.

His head swayed like he was hearing things in it that she couldn't know.

At one point, he stopped and jotted something on the sheet music propped in front of him. He tucked the small pencil back between his teeth to play again. The piano was as scarred and scuffed as any she'd ever seen. It suited him. She wanted to run her hands over him and talk about each mark, each medal on his skin of survival.

There was no time for that. There was no time for this. Any of this. This with them. The timing couldn't be worse.

But she kept standing in the doorway watching him anyway.

Finally, Dante ruined the moment when he looked up from where he lay at Leon's feet to see her. He barked happily and circled three times before he ran over to sniff her. She crouched to pet him as Leon turned to face her.

Aya felt her smile bloom automatically, "...hi."

He tucked the pencil in his mouth behind his ear and smiled back. And then he flushed a little pink, telling her he just a little nervous to have her wake up in his house and won some part of her she didn't know was waiting for him, "Hi. I wake you?"

"Not even." She let Dante lick her cheek before she picked him up to snuggle him a little, "How'd you learn to play?"

He set the pencil down on the piano and rose. "My grandpa actually. I spent a lot of my childhood with them."

She set Dante down and held the sheet around her as she asked, "Your parents weren't around much?"

Leon shrugged a shoulder and moved into the kitchen to pour her some coffee. "My Dad...wasn't much of a Dad actually." He settled beans into a grinder and filled the air with the scent of french roast.

Aya noted each nuance of him with the eye of a detective as if she were building a file on him. He was a guy who kept his coffee in the freezer and ground it himself.

She was aware, as he moved, of the new growth of scars on his chest. It wasn't there last night. The thing in him was attacking him daily. Her heart thumped a little in concern as she responded, "Mine either. He left when I was very little."

Leon scoffed dryly and poured her a cup. Aya noted, in her list of things, that he barely looked at her. Why? Maybe the thing in him wasn't calm like it was in her. Maybe it was still hurting him to be near her.

Or maybe he was just that nervous to have her here. In the light of day, it was easier to feel guilty about what they'd done. She didn't want him to feel guilty. Ever.

He remarked, gruffly, "I wish mine had. Same old drunken loser he's always been. When my grandparent's...died." He hesitated and she felt the shiver of pain not quite gone. He was still grieving them, however long ago they'd passed, "It was unexpected. A drunk driver on New Year's Eve. Just another statistic, right?"

The holidays were miserable for him. What had always been her happiest time was his worst. She understood, now, a little more why he was the man he was. Bad parents and a loss too young of the ones who really mattered had shaped him into the type of man who lived alone, isolated, and let no one in.

Leon shrugged as he set her coffee on the table and surprised her with a plate of eggs and toast he'd kept beneath a warmer on the stove. Touched, she picked up the coffee and sipped, "You miss them."

Not a question.

He glanced at her and away again, moving to put away the egg carton on the counter. "... every day."

Her heart stuttered once as she answered, "They'd be proud of you, I think."

His hand tightened on the door handle for the fridge. He laughed, dryly, and it was painful to hear. "Yeah? My Grandpa was a farmer, Aya. Just a farmer. I don't think he'd understand how his grandson became a guy with a world-ending parasite in his chest. You think he'd be proud of a great grandkid who might start the apocalypse?"

She set down the coffee and ached for him, but she said, "I think he'd be proud that his son gets up every day, straps on a gun, and tries to save lives."

Leon glanced at her over his shoulder, "...yeah. Maybe you're right about that...thank you."

"It's the truth," She shrugged and helped herself to a bite of eggs. Again, she looked at him in surprise, "...I had no clue eggs could taste like that."

He winked at her and helped himself to a slice of toast. "You live alone enough, you learn to cook well to feed yourself."

"I've lived alone all my life I think and I still burn water."

Dante leaped up in the chair she'd never sat in and helped himself to a gobble of her toast as well. She watched him leap down and run away and had to laugh. "Your dog has no manners."

"Dante has a mind of his own. Be lucky it wasn't pizza."

Her eyes twinkled a little as she looked at Leon, "You can't be real."

He winked again and moved to the sink to wash dishes. "Why? Because I have a pizza eating dog? He also tries to steal my whiskey sometimes."

"Because you're painfully charming, impossibly talented, incredibly beautiful...and you have a pizza eating dog."

He laughed and it echoed a little, "That's not what men like to hear, Aya. Beautiful is a girl word."

"Beautiful is an androgynous word. You are. Not just your face...you. Inside. You're good. When you might have turned dark, Leon, you stayed so pure somehow. I envy you."

The sink was full of suds as he turned to look at her. "...who talks like that?"

She tilted her head at him, "I do. We barely know each other. We're in this mess. But this morning?" She smiled, "I'm not panicked. I'm not afraid. I'm not burning alive inside my body. You seem nervous. Are you?"

He shook his head. "Not exactly...I woke up rested. I felt..good."

She laughed, eyes sparkling, "Rebecca was right. She was right. Now we can focus, Leon. Now we can fight back. I don't know how much time we have to stop her. I don't know if we even can. But I know for the first time since this started...I  _believe_ we can. Maybe it's monstrous what's growing in both of us...but sometimes it's devil versus devil. Dante knows that I think. Don'tcha, you little devil?"

Dante woofed and seemed to grin at them.

"I choose to believe what's between us isn't monstrous. I choose to believe that if Eve is the beginning. If she's awakened some power in her to change the world... then what's awoken in us can be beautiful. It can be what rises from the darkness to drive it back. Two sides of the same coin. Because good isn't inherent, Leon...it's a choice. It's one you make every day when you pick to fight things you can't understand. It's why I left the N.Y.P.D. and came to Raccoon City. Because I believe I was made to do something great. Maybe this is it. Maybe I'm the product of a monster playing god...but who I become? That's up to me."

Leon shook his head, he couldn't seem to look away from her. "If that was your battle cry, it worked. I won't quit on you, Aya. Whatever it takes."

She nodded. She smiled and felt her eyes spring with tears, "I need to say something, and I don't want to scare you off with it."

Concerned, he leaned on the counter and told her, "Alright."

She drew a deep breath and confessed, "I wish I'd met you when I could have you. I wish I'd met you when everything I loved didn't hang in the balance. I would have liked to have loved you without pain between us."

It wasn't bad, he thought, it was good. What she was telling him? It was good.

His eyes volleyed across her face. He felt his heart thump for her and returned, "I think love comes with pain sometimes. I think it's real because it hurts. I'm not going anywhere. Believe me when I tell you, Aya, that if it comes down to death- if it looks like there's no other way here...I'm taking them all with me."

Aya felt the swell of that kind of determination in her bones. She clutched the sheet around her and said, "This is the bad part, Mr. Kennedy..I think I'm in love with you...and it scares me to death."

He tried to remember the last time a woman had said it to him. Had one? Ever? Bad, she said, but it wasn't bad. It felt wonderful.

Leon moved toward her. She opened the sheet to let him in. He picked her up against his front to hold her. Her arms wrapped at his neck. The sheet cocooned around them both.

And he told her, "...thank you for loving me."

"Thank you for letting me."

Just a girl who loved him and healed him and let him hold her down. Just a girl who was as deep inside his chest as the thing that was trying to kill him. But her? She was trying to  _save_ him.

They held tight to each other until Dante woofed once like he was jealous. As Leon let her go to settle back on her feet, Aya turned her head to the table beside them. There was a scattering of files and folders and pictures. There were a multitude of things to look at.

But her eyes settled on the photo of herself. She narrowed her eyes. She glanced between it and the one next to it. The woman in red?

He'd laid them almost atop each other.

She glanced at his face in confusion. He was closed down now, cold almost, he nodded, "Look again."

Aya did. She looked. She almost asked what she was looking for when she saw it. If you lengthened the nose. If you lightened the eyes. If you colored the hair...they could be the same woman.

Her hand shot out to grab his wrist. "...who is she?"

"I think she's your sister."

Her eyes filled with tears as Aya turned her face up to him, "...how?"

"Derek Simmons was a man obsessed with her. He created a whole program to try to clone her. I think he was in love with your mother. I think he granted Birkin access to his program in the early days so that Birkin would fertilize more of her eggs for him. Birkin took one for himself to have Sherry. He gave the other to Simmons to put inside his own surrogate. The other went into your mother...and you were born."

She'd forgotten to tell him all of it. In the midst of their passion, she'd forgotten to tell him the truth. She felt the tears slip out of her eyes as she informed him, "Not just me. I split. In the womb, I split and made twins. I have a twin. An identical twin. Klamp took her. He hid her away. Her name was Maya..."

Aya put a hand to her mouth and drew a shaky breath, "I don't understand any of this, Leon. I don't understand. How could someone play with lives like this? Megan and Melissa Pearce were guinea pigs. My Mother was a mule. This woman..." She gestured to Ada, "And me...and Helena...the others...we're all pawns in some game. Why? I don't understand. How can there be so many of us out there? How do we fight that? Does it ever end?"

His arms slid around her from behind. She leaned back against him and closed her eyes. What was it about him that knew just how to hold her? He even rocked a little while she clung to him.

And he told her, "I'm so sorry. I can't protect you from the truth, Aya. I would if I could, but maybe I can help you avenge it."

There was no question of it, she thought now, she loved him. She'd have to be dead not to.

Quietly, she whispered, "...I had a dream...last night. I had a dream about you."

Leon took a deep breath and asked, "Did you kill me?"

"I didn't. Not me. Simmons. You said Simmons before. Derek Simmons. He was your boss?"

Leon let her go. She turned to face him in the kitchen. "He was when I was on the President's security detail. Why?"

"He knew. If the dream was real...if it was telling me something I should know...he  _knew_ that what was inside of you was different. He knew it wasn't the same as the things you faced in Spain. He called it Type-M. The file the woman in red gave me - it said that too. What about the girl with the glasses...Hunnigan?"

The coffee in his hand froze halfway to his mouth, "...what?"

"Hunnigan? She was there. She knew. He told her. He made her swear she wouldn't tell you. He made it a matter of national security or something, but he knew it was in you. He wanted to see how it would grow. Do you know anything about this?"

Leon took a sip of coffee and set it down. He tapped his fingers on the mug and finally replied, "The woman in red...her name is Ada Wong. She and I met on my one day on the force..years ago. And again in Spain. And the ESR. And Tall Oaks. She pops up, somehow, when I need her...I met with her last night before you showed up. She told me some of what you're saying now -she mentioned Simmons. But what does that mean? Type-M?"

There was no reason at all to mention they'd bumped uglies once. Irrelevant. It wouldn't help. It would, however, spark a whole conversation that he didn't want to have. It was, really, the first time his fucking Ada might actually hurt him.

Aya shrugged a little and answered, "He said mitochondria. He talked about what Klamp was spewing. The beginning, the powerhouse of the cell...the parasite in you is binding to your mitochondria. I don't know how but its been slowly doing it since you failed to kill it all those years ago."

He turned away to look out the window into his yard. It was sunny. The sun was bright on the white, white snow. His heart was heavy in his chest as he answered, "Ada gave me something to attempt to suppress it. The plagas, Aya, they don't stay human -they mutate."

"...Like Sherry?"

He shook his head, "I don't know what that is. I just know what I saw, what I faced...I can't turn into that. I'm afraid that's where this ends for me. Unless we find a way to stop it."

Now she returned, with feeling, "We'll find a way. In the dark last night...I could see it inside of you. When we made love...it just...went still."

He turned to look at her. She shrugged and sighed, "I don't understand it either, but whatever begins with mitochondria seems to need to mate. What if that's the reason Eve wanted your sperm? What if you're the only man in history to bond to the mitochondria type plagas before?"

Something about the way she said that had him narrowing his eyes. "The first person in history? That doesn't make sense, Aya. If Simmons already knew about it an-"

"No. Listen. I didn't say the first  _person,_ Leon...I said the first  _man."_

She watched that arrow home as he absorbed it.

He flashed back on Spain, on Ada being there, on Saddler injecting him. He flashed on Luis dying before he could tell him everything he knew. He flashed on Saddler's inability to completely control him, on the feeling in the cave to fuck Ada while he killed her...it all circled back. It all circled around.

Ada had directed him to the laser to save Ashley and himself.

But what if the laser had only zapped the plagas that was susceptible? What if killing the other part had somehow given the Type-M power? Had Ada turned him to the laser...to clear the way for the other mitochondria driven parasite to overtake him?

Had she been playing him all this time?

She'd stolen a plagas from the ESR that was able to control. She'd given Simmons the keys to perverting the madness in Tall Oaks. She claimed unwittingly. She talked about Simmons like he disgusted her.

But if he'd created her...maybe she'd been lying this whole time.

Maybe she was in bed with powers greater than Derek Simmons.

Maybe she was the person pulling the strings on this whole puppet show. Was it her and Wesker? Was it that simple?

Maybe she was at the right hand of Wesker from the very beginning, playing powers against each other to get to her ultimate goal.

No...to get to the  _Ultimate Being._

Aya tilted her head, watching him. "What is it? What's going through your head?"

"...you ever wonder if there's anyone in your life you can really trust?"

Her hand reached out, it grabbed his and twined their fingers together, and she answered, "Not anymore."

God damn. Love. It was all over her. She might share pieces of Ada's face, but she shared nothing of her soul.

Leon studied her face and told her. He told her all of it. Anything he could think of that might impact what was happening. He brainstormed about Ada. They tossed around ideas about the organs from Megan Pearce.

Why her?

What had awakened her cells to make her the perfect donor?

How had the recipients been chosen? Were they chosen just in case Sherry needed more organs? Had Birkin been able to predict what would happen with his experimentation? Did he know mixing G with whatever mitochondria based powers were already in play would create a monster?

They talked about finding Maya and the implication that she was the first Eve - the base, the beginning, the start of it all. What did it mean that she was gone when Megan Pearce had begun to awaken?

Or had she been able to control the whole thing from wherever she was? Was she pulling strings from wherever Klamp had hidden her away?

Who was Marguerite? What did Zoe Baker have to do with it?

Were all the organ recipients eventually going to awaken?

The outcome would be catastrophic.

She'd mentioned Jill Valentine had been admitted to the same program. Was Jill an Eve? Was Jill alive? And Redfield? Claire's brother had been missing when they'd looked for bodies in that mansion all those years ago. Was he a monster too?

He pinched the bridge of his nose to stop his thoughts from crashing together.

Dressed in his RPD hoodie and some small black panties, Aya managed to look soft and pure in his kitchen. But what if she was capable of conceiving an ultimate being? Was that the threat here? That they'd fuck and make a baby that would be greater than the one Sherry Birkin was trying to gestate somewhere?

Was that what Ada wanted?

Aya's baby with him?

Why?

He considered the one night he'd spent with Ada. They'd both been drinking. They'd used nothing but each other. Had she...deliberately seduced him to try to get pregnant? Why would she need Aya if she could just conceive herself?

Or maybe that was it. Maybe she couldn't conceive.

Too many questions.

No answers.

They needed to start at the beginning. They needed to find Sherry before she finished her gestation. Where would she go? Where would she hide? Was she with Hyde Bohr? With clones all over, was Derek Simmons even really dead? How did they know anything anymore?

Where was Sherry gestating?

They'd searched the Museum, the hospital, the zoo, the park - anywhere she might be looking to hunker down and hibernate. Where would she have gone? Could they use their shared conscious to find her like Rebecca thought?

It was well past lunch before they finally gave up digging for awhile. Phone calls, emails, internet searches - calling in favors, searching databases, peeling back layers of lives of people they barely knew. Helena was picked apart from birth to present. Sherry was disassembled. What little could be found on Ada was useless anyway. They dug into Yoko - who coincidentally was half Japanese herself. He wondered if the Asian heritage was significant - but it didn't seem to be. Melissa and Megan Pearce were simply Caucasian.

Zoe Baker appeared to be the same as the Pearce's - just a good old fashioned American girl.

She had family in Louisiana apparently. Her parents had paid a great deal for her to get the care in New York she needed for the transplant. Early exposure to mold had caused bacterial infection to ruin her lungs. A blood test had shown her an ideal match with Pearce and when the accident had happened, she'd received her new lease on life.

She was just a girl with a brother who lived on a farm in Dulvey, Louisiana. He couldn't find anything to raise red flags about her hometown, about her childhood, about her in general. She seemed like a girl who'd been cursed with bad lungs and given new ones to start her life anew.

Now she was in a coma beside Helena.

Yawning, he reached behind his head to stretch his neck. The frustration came in knowing they were close - they were on the edge of unearthing the whole thing. But they just needed one last piece of the puzzle.

Aya leafed through the information on the Bakers and frowned. She looked like she was thinking too hard. Dante interrupted whatever thought she was having.

He barked to be let out. Aya shifted to let him. She bent over to pick up one of his toys from the ground by the door and return it to his bed.

He wasn't desperate for her. He wasn't insane, but it wasn't safe...because now all that was left was his own heart. He didn't know how to protect it.

What was interesting? She was still the woman who's bio he'd read cover to cover to hire her. She was smart. She was dedicated. She was a bloodhound about finding these answers. When he spouted an idea, she kicked it right back at him with relevant reasons it could or couldn't be true.

He respected her almost as much as he wanted her. He liked what she said as much as he liked her mouth. He could look at her now and see just a woman, just a cop who'd chosen to keep fighting, just a companion in the battle against bioterror.

He was reminded that when it came to business like this, he was never wrong. He'd hired the right person for the job here. Being female was irrelevant. It was good to remember that.

Most of his life? He'd never been the type to look at a business associate as something you fucked. With Aya? He'd been unable to see her as anything but for so long that he'd forgotten the most essential part of why he'd hired her - she was the best the NYPD had to offer. Having the best ass he'd had his hands on years wasn't at all relative.

Sure.

Aloud, he asked, "How do you feel?"

She turned to look at him. Her shaggy hair trailed over her shoulders as she studied him before she replied, "Like we might be closer than we think. Birkin told me that Klamp had given Maya to his sister. But he didn't have a last name for her. He just said she fled from Umbrella in Paris before the fall. Is there a way to find out who the head of Umbrella was in Paris at that time?"

"Easily enough. I'll Kevin to get him digging."

"Ok. What if we've had the truth staring us in the face since that night she immolated everyone at that concert?"

He tilted his head, "Meaning?"

"What if we've had the answer all along?"

Leon narrowed his brows, "How so?"

"What if we can harness what's in you...to destroy what's in me?"

His brows lifted into his hair, "We've tossed that thought around before. But with what? A magic bullet?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Don't you think it's worth talking to Rebecca about?"

"Absolutely. She's probably already had that thought herself. She took some blood from me the other night. She's taking some from Pearce. I'm sure she'll cross both mine with hers and yours and see what happens. Will you let me take some of yours? To compare with Ada's? And determine if you're related?"

"I said whatever you need. I meant it." Aya yawned and stretched as she said it. She poked a finger at the files on the table. "I wish I knew how it all connects. What's the final piece here?"

She lifted the hoodie to scratch her belly. His dick sprang up at the sight of the little ring through her navel. She glanced at his face and he could see the pulse skip in her throat.

But again, it was just man to woman. It was just human response. It had started out beyond their control...now it was just the simple truth of something new, something good, and something almost sweet.

Without a word, she stepped into him and he pulled her back against his front. He angled her between his knees and she perched on his lap. His arms shifted around her. Her butt brushed against his groin. Sure, he would have liked to have hiked her up on the table and fucked her, but he could separate that simple want from that bone searing need that had plagued him. He'd been winning the fight against the monster between his legs since he was fourteen.

But because he could, his left hand slid under the sweatshirt to finger that little ring in her belly button anyway.

Leon glanced down at the table and took a heavy breath. "The final piece is us. Somehow. You and I. Where do we all fit together? How do we wedge things into something that makes sense?"

There was no answer. He wasn't sure there would be. At least now? They were finally ready to sink their teeth into something but each other and start searching. Her head leaned against his cheek. She kept picking up pictures of Ada and looking at her face with something like regret.

Softly, she wondered, "Maybe that's why you are so drawn to me."

Leon turned his head to look at her profile, "Why?"

"Because I look like the woman in red."

His hand cupped the side of her face. He turned it toward him and kissed her. She made a small sound of longing and dropped the photo. As it fluttered down, her butt wiggled a little against his groin.

Yep. Just two people in the first throws of something new and needy. No parasites, just hormones.

He let go of her mouth to murmur, "...maybe I needed to find her...so I could find you."

Aya smiled. It flashed bright and fast. She felt her mouth turn up into a grin as she watched his eyes twinkle. Chuckling, she told him, "Clever boy. I wish I knew if you were sincere or just really, really, really sly."

He winked at her and pressed another soft kiss to her mouth.

Aloud, he asked, "I promised to teach you."

She tilted her head, "You have."

And he shook his as he rose, "I haven't. I've been too busy trying to avoid getting in your pants to teach you. Throw some clothes on and get your gun."

Aya laughed, shaking her head, "Why is it sad to hear you say it?"

"I know." He paused. He caught her face to pull her in. They kissed smoothly. Almost sweetly. It was good to feel a thrum of something besides lust. What? Love? Something. He let her go. "First I'll teach you."

She waited while he turned to head down the hallway before she called, "And then?"

He didn't turn back, but he answered, "And then you'll teach me."

Curious, Aya wondered, "Teach you what? What can I possibly teach you about?"

He came back in a sweater and boots. He tossed her her gun and pants. "Love. I think it's the one damn thing I'm too stupid to learn."

Her hand gripped the front of his sweater. She volleyed those haunting eyes over his face before she told him, "Yeah, clever boy. Not too stupid. Too scared. I won't hurt you. You'll have to learn to trust me."

She let him go and he watched her finish dressing. She was right. He was afraid to let her in. There was no one in his life he could trust.

Until now.

* * *

**1:11 p.m. - The Hive- Secure Treatment Chamber**

* * *

"What do you mean she's in a coma?"

Quint and Rebecca helds eyes over the data in front of her. He shrugged, looking confused, "I'm saving the guards said she screamed for almost an hour. She screamed and thrashed and then just...went down. Still. Like the other two upstairs."

Rebecca shook her head, "...how? Why?"

"I don't know."

"What did she scream?"

Quint shook his head. He looked concerned as he told her, "That's the thing...she just kept screaming:  _he's in the snow._ What does that even mean?"

Rebecca shrugged. She stared through the glass at the comatose opera singer, "I don't know...but go find out where Kennedy is. Now."

"You think he's in trouble?"

"...I don't know that either. I think we need to make sure he's with the right.. _.Eve._ "


	21. Chapter 21

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**December 2014–**

**Chapter Twenty-One:**

**The Time to Choose**

* * *

**11:09 p.m. - Lower Laboratory C- The Hive - Raccoon City Hospital**

* * *

_He's in the snow_  had morning meaning than she'd been prepared for.

Rebecca and Quint Cetcham were both the type of nerds that never tired of the basic joy of new discovery. They had had one single date when they'd first met after coming to work for the BCU. One.

Quint, as it turned out, was too nerdy even for Rebecca who had a great love of the odd and unusual.

He stood over her shoulder now with his magnification spectacles perched atop his skinny nose on a face that was often described as resembling a ferret. His balding hair, having fled his genius head when he was much too young, was graced with a contraption similar to a headlamp for assembling small parts. He used both to watch the reactions of both viral and mechanical fusion.

At the moment, they were both looking down at the mystery and miracle of science at work as the blood of two different infected souls mingling in the Petrie dish before them. Rebecca watched the strange sparkling cells split, fuse, and attack the others as if a great battle were taking place within the confines of a tiny piece of plastic. You could almost see them spark as they struck and ignited an electrical reaction.

She breathed in awe, "Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?"

Quint, lacking a filter, answered, "The face of the first girl I got off as she came maybe."

Rebecca gave him a bland look and rolled her eyes. "You know what this means?"

Quint nodded, his buck teeth flashing a big grin, "Somebody is the powerhouse there, huh?"

Rebecca gave him a wolfish leer, "Oh, yeah. Quint? I think I know what's happening. What's better? I think I can stop it."

Quint patted her back hard enough she choked on the coffee she was drinking, "You're a smart cookie, Dr. Chambers. You ever want to merge our two mental giant mitochondria, you let me know. I don't like kids, but I'll make one with you anytime."

She rolled her eyes again and leaned back over the disk. Aloud, she instructed, "Go get Ryman, would ya? I think it's time to talk about the big cheese."

Quint gave her a wide-eyed look, "Who's the big cheese? The Stinky Cheese Man?"

Rebecca waited to see if he was serious. He was. It was kinda embarrassing for him. So she clarified, "The boss, you clown. I meant Leon. What's your IQ again?"

Quint giggled and snorted, hee-hawed somewhat adorably, and hurried to go find Kevin.

After he was gone, Rebecca messed with her data to see what happened when she merged DNA. It was more habit than actually expecting something to happen. When she clicked on a file from Leon from just after he'd returned from Spain, it opened his old blood work. She scanned it perfunctorily and almost closed the file with a shrug when her eyes zeroed in on the type.

AB negative.

A pretty rare blood type. That part wasn't the surprising part. She clicked on her files from the blood she'd taken a few days ago.

She clicked on her files she'd had imported from the database after Tall Oaks.

She clicked on his last physical with George Hamilton, and his first one with the good doctor in 2002 and she compared it to the blood she'd taken from him a few days before.

When Kevin came up behind her, she turned her head toward him and said, "...well...I think you better sit down for this."

It turned out? Sometimes they wore masks without evening knowing it.

* * *

**11:25 p.m. - The Hive - Central Security Station**

* * *

Bo loomed above the security guard like the wrath of god, "You better be kidding me right now, son. She was in a goddamn coma."

The pale faced guard shook his head. He cowered but he answered, "I don't know what happened, sir. I swear to god...she just-she-she-asked. She just asked to be let out. And I did it. I let her out. Why did I do that!?"

Bo glanced at the video feed to see Melissa Pearce walking out of a heavily guarded ward without a single person stopping her. She just...left. He shook his head, "What the hell happened here?"

From the doorway, Kevin answered, "I think the opera singer just discovered a new power."

Bo looked at him in disbelief, "Mind control!? You fucking kidding me?"

"I wish I was dude. I think you should call in the big gun."

Bo gave him a cold look, "I'm not calling him. I'll break my foot off in his ass...speaking of him...where the hell is Aya?"

Kevin stopped sucking on the Blow Pop he'd tucked into his mouth in an attempt to quit smoking and they both shared a telling look. With frustration, Kevin cursed, "...you gotta be fucking kidding me!"

Bo answered, "I will shove his head so far up his own ass, he has to wear himself as a hat."

That made Kevin snort as he turned and grabbed one of the guards in the hallway, "Lock this goddamn place down. Secure those comatose patients upstairs in a secure  _unmonitored_ room. Cameras only, no guards inside the room. You hear me?"

"Yes, sir. Of course, sir."

"And somebody get over to Riker's Island and check on Birkin!"

Bo gave him a narrow look as he went for the elevator. "Where you goin?"

"...to put his ass back on the wagon. Hold down the fort here, would ya?"

The elevator doors pinged shut as Kevin muttered darkly under his breath. Idiot. The damage was probably already done.

* * *

**_Somewhere in the snow..._ **

* * *

_Fear seized in her chest. It hurt like she was dying. She stood with her back to the column and listened. In the snow, footsteps crunched._

_Close._

_Too close._

_The gun in her hands was cold. Her breath fogged out. It was white and bright somehow. The person came around the column and she grabbed their hand. She jerked, they flew forward and landed on their hands and knees, and she put the gun on them before they could turn and rise._

_"Turn..slowly...now."_

_It wasn't her voice._

_It wasn't her voice at all._

_It was...Leon's._

_The person on the ground turned, slowly as commanded, and she caught the reflection of Leon's face...in her own eyes._

_Before she could speak, her doppelganger did. "...it's me. It's me. Don't. Please."_

_And Leon's mouth returned, "...there's no mercy in me for you."_

_Trapped in his body, Aya felt the panic. She tried to stop him. She tried, but she had no control. She was just visiting. She was just seeing. She couldn't stop anything._

_He pulled the trigger on her. It echoed. The bloody hole in her forehead spilled red to the white snow beneath her as she walked in Leon's body over to stand above her corpse. The face reflected back in her empty doll like eyes was his - sorta- but it was empty. So empty. Who was he? She tried to see the man she knew in the stranger before her._

_He lifted the gun on her body and pulled trigger again to guarantee she was dead._

* * *

**11:09 p.m. - Kennedy Residence - Master Bedroom**

* * *

She awoke with a gasp. She sat straight up in bed. The sheet tumbled around her breasts and left them pale sweaty in the moonlight. Her hand slapped to her chest to feel the thunder of her heart.

Alive.

She was alive.

She was...human.

But for how long? How much of what she saw was real? How much of what she saw was past? How much was future? Did she glimpse the future to stop it? Could she?

Eventually, the others would awaken. Could she protect him from them when the time came? Could she...if she stayed asleep? Was the dream telling her she'd lose him to whatever was in him if she didn't hold on?

Aya rolled to find Leon asleep on his belly beside her. Her hands touched the thick rope of scars that streaked down his lower back onto his left buttock. What had caused it? It looked like claws. Something had tried to slice him open.

He'd survived so much. Would this thing inside of him be the end? Would it lead him, like a pied piper, to death while the music played?

She had to tell him. He had to know. They would all awaken. They would all come for him. He was the key. She might be the gun...but he was the bullet. How could she protect him? What would it take?

Her hand slid down his back and she whispered, "Leon? Are you awake? I need to a-"

He caught her wrist and jerked. The covers spilled as she let him. He reacted like a warrior wakened by the enemy. His hands bound hers over her head. He kicked her feet apart and held her down. It was a handful of seconds.

His harsh breathing was loud in the quiet night. Her pulse thudded roughly to match his. They held eyes from inches away. They'd kill him when they were done with him. They'd use him up and destroy him.

The man with the dog who ate pizza. The man who wrote music and mourned family that had died decades before. The man who was a legend looking for peace after a lifetime of war. The man still holding on to hope in the middle of the madness. The man that joked when he was hurting and held you when you were scared. The man...she was in love with.

She'd given over her body and lost her heart with it. She was in love with him. What good was it? She was the girl in love with the legend after a handful of days.

What would she do to stop them?...no...what  _wouldn't_ she do?

His eyes were pale silver above her. The blonde of his hair blended against hers where it touched on her face. Shades darker, it made hers look white by comparison. She wanted to stroke her thumbs over his eyebrows. She wanted to feel the pulse in his throat speed up when he touched her.

She wanted him to look at her like she was more than a thing in his world out to use him.

He could feel her breasts against his chest rising with her shallow breathing. He could feel the line of her abdomen against his. He could see the sympathy and hurt in her eyes for him. Her face was pale and beautiful in the shimmering shadows.

He didn't see Sherry when he looked at her. He didn't see Ada. He couldn't see anything but her. He wanted to know what she'd feel like around him. He needed to know what it would be like to be inside her.

She whispered, "...I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I shouldn't have -"

He put his hand over her mouth to silence her. When she was still, he reached over to grasp at the nightstand and the over turned box. Her heart sped up. The package crinkled.

Her thighs trembled into the pregnant silence. The thing in his chest was...undulating? It was in there just having some kind of party or something. She knew, without him saying a word, that it was snapping at the tenuous tether of his control to ride his body like a demon he couldn't exorcise.

The glimpse of moonlight and shadow on his face showed the tightness of his jaw. The tremor in his hands as he simply held the condom made them both aware that he was nervous. Nervous and angry and...what? Why was he always so angry to want her? Would it never end?

Aya kept her hands where he held her. She didn't resist. Hadn't he figured that out yet? She wasn't going to resist him. She didn't want to hurt him.

She didn't want him angry at the attraction between them.

Her voice cracked a little as she whispered, "...why are you so mad when you look at me?"

He couldn't answer. He didn't know. He'd awoken again with that burning hunger for her. It hurt him, almost physically, to crave her like this.

She whispered, "Is it me? Or what's in you?"

It was her. That was the problem. It was her. He needed her out of his system. He only knew one way to do that. He didn't know how else to free himself. What did they say?  _Free yourself._

Maybe this is what his body had needed all along.

His hands curled around her throat. Her eyes flared. He told her, "Grab my face."

She did.

Hoarsely, he told her, "...I'm sorry."

Why? She started to ask-

And he shoved into her. Bare. Desperate. Aya gasped and arched toward him. She was so warm and snug that he was fairly sure he'd only last a moment anyway. With feeling, he grunted, "... _shit._ Don't move."

He lifted his ass to pull out. Her body squeezed him like she'd keep him there inside her. He was shaking like he'd run ten miles in high altitude. He snapped his hips and surged back into her, hard.

She keened. Her body resisted. Almost instantly. He couldn't blame it. He'd slapped forcefully down into her. He couldn't be easy. He just couldn't. He told her hoarsely again, like a man drowning or something, "...I'm sorry. You can hit me- if you want...but I can't."

Can't what? She was trembling with need for him. She was full of him - in all ways. She was aching for the pain on his face. Why would she hit him?

But he showed her.

Without waiting, he pumped deep and hard into her. Not delicate. Rough. Her legs tried to open wider and take him. He was so hard the bed creaked and jumped. It hit the pleasure and pain centers in her body and smashed them together. It hurt. It felt amazing.

She slapped his face against the pain and gripped his ear with the other hand to kiss him hard and hungry. His hands slid down and jerked her hips up at an angle. The pleasure and the pain finally stopped fighting. It was just pain now. Too sharp. Too hard. Too deep.

Aya's hands dropped to shove on his chest as she gasped high and loud,  _"-yes!"_

But it didn't matter. She came. One minute, great pain and ache, the next the most intense orgasm she'd ever had. She screamed into his mouth with it. He swallowed that and kissed her, claiming her body and her mouth together.

His left hand curled around the base of her throat to hold her humping body down. He threw the covers off him and his other hand jerked her head back by her hair to kiss her. While she almost sobbed with need, he told her, "... _touch_ me. Now -Aya."

And she did that too. She put her hands on his back, grabbed a fistful of muscle and had him spurring on like she'd whipped him into motion. Too hard. Too much. The tears on her face excited him. Pain? Pleasure. Her open mouth and humping hips to meet him said both. Both. Like his for her. He wanted to drop his mouth and bite her neck like a vampire or something.

He could already smell the copper in her and then he realized she'd clawed her own arm to try to get some release from the pressure in herself. He understood it. He needed it. He was dying for it.

He started to slow down and let her recover, but her pelvis lifted and smacked into him to make him grunt.

And then she cried, "Don't stop!"

Her left hand caught the side of his neck and the top of his shoulder with her nails. The grasping pain hit the greedy pleasure and burst all over them both.

She slapped his face again and he laughed darkly. The hand on her throat tightened. Hers on his back gripped so hard it flashed warnings of too much around him. Her mouth opened on a string of filthy words shouted in a hoarse battle cry. She thrust up to take him as hard as he threw it down to her.

He scented his blood and hers and he just..gave up. Her cumming body seized around him and he answered it. He hammered her through it as he filled her up. It felt like he blew a nut doing it. But it was good. It was great. It was what he'd needed all along.

His body  _needed_ him to fuck her like he was trying to impregnate her. He'd known it. He'd known it all along, but the thing in him was suddenly, intensely, completely silent. Curled in his chest like a contented kitten purring and sleeping.

He kissed her while she opened completely for him. He'd used her. He was an asshole. To soothe them both, he eased his softening length in and out of her. They both liked it. She kissed him impossibly slow and deep.

Their hands wove their fingers together for a moment above her head. He rolled his hips to give her the feel of him bare inside her. They kiss so wetly that it made her tremble. Her liked her shaking. She was twitching and gasping with it. His lips slid down her jaw and kissed over her slamming heart.

After a long moment, he murmured, "I'm sorry...what did you need?"

At the moment, she couldn't remember. He let go of her hands and they slid down his shoulders and stroked his back. Her thighs trembled as she let the comfort of his weight atop her soothe away the dream.

It mattered? What she dreamed...it was important...right?

It was the first real time they'd let go enough to really surrender to whatever it was that bound them. The raunchy, filthy, desperate coupling had sated it completely. She was jerking a little in his arms and he was twitching atop her, but it was like surviving a hand on a live wire while standing in a rainstorm. They both felt elated and alive.

 _Complete_.

She started to tell him about the dream and the house was no longer quiet. They listened to the footsteps with their eyes latched together. His left hand grabbed the blanket to fling it back across them and Leon reached for his gun still atop her.

* * *

Kevin just let himself in. That was the gift of having a key to someone's place. You could come and go as you please. Rebecca's words were still ringing in his ears. He just didn't know what to do about it.

He let himself in, let Dante out when the dog greeted him by spinning circles three times and went straight to the bedroom.

It was worse than he'd thought. They weren't in mid-fuck, they were post fuck, mid-cuddle. He wasn't just late - it was over. The battle was done. Angry, Kevin kicked the bed.

"Get up!"

In fairness, he should have expected that even mid-cuddle, the other man wasn't without his faculties. From beneath the cover, Leon told him, "You came really close to having your balls blown out your back before you even kicked my bed. Now? I think I'm about to do it anyway."

The cover shifted enough that Kevin knew Leon had a gun aimed at him beneath them. Impressive. Apparently, the former rookie slept with a gun strapped to his bed.

Curious, Kevin asked, "Where'd you strap it? Underneath?"

Leon shifted until he could sit up and click the safety. "Too far. The wall behind the headboard."

"...nice."

"Thanks. What do you want?"

It was even more curious that he shifted those blankets around Aya as she moved. He kept her covered, like a gentleman, until she was able to rise up on the side of the bed with the blanket around her.

Naked, Leon shifted toward his dresser.

"Well, first off - shame on you both. Apparently, I should have put a chastity belt on one of you to avoid this happening...what the fuck happened to your neck?!"

Leon gave him a dirty look as he pulled on some boxers. "None ya business. We talked to Rebecca. She gave us a green light. For your information? It works. When we..." He searched for the right word.

Aya filled one in, "Copulate?"

"Sure. Yeah. Copulate. When we copulate, it seems to settle down whatever's inside of us."

Kevin rolled his eyes, "Copulate is a nerd word. The right word is pork. When you pork, you feel better? You're kidding!" The sarcasm was thick, "Bumpin uglies makes you clear headed? Why haven't I tried that? It's revolutionary! You feel that way when you were sixteen fucking your first girl, pal? I sure didn't."

Aya rolled her eyes, "What do you want, Kevin?"

"I wouldn't say no to a glimpse at your boobs, but I am a guy so sue me. But second to that, why you two were  _copulating,"_  He held up his fingers to air quote, "Melissa Pearce pulled a brain meld on security and everyone else and walked right the fuck outta the hospital."

Leon shook his head, muttered a curse, and tugged a gray sweater on over the white t-shirt he donned. "Anyone get hurt?"

"Not so far. She just poofed their brains and left."

"Damn. Alright," Leon gestured with his head so they could step out of the bedroom and Aya could change, "Let's get someone over to Riker's to check on B-"

"Done. And the coma patients are contained. But she's going to Birkin, right? She's answering some kind of call to arms."

"I don't know. Maybe." They moved into the living room so Leon could throw on his coat. The smooth brown leather sighed happily. "Any luck on locating her?"

"You kidding? You ever hear of the needle in the haystack? This is the needle in the needle stack. There's over eight million people in this city, Leon. We don't even know where to start looking."

From the bedroom, Aya emerged in jeans and Leon's RPD shirt. She picked up her coat to slip it on over the shirt and added, "I might. She'd go to ground, right? She'd want someplace safe to gestate. If the Museum is out...where else would she go?"

They both gave her blank looks and she answered, "Her Dad worked at the university right? In a city where you need weird emblems to get into places. Best bet? She's there. And if not? It might tell us where to find her."

Leon nodded and started to say they should heard there when Kevin's phone started ringing. Kevin answered it, switched it to speaker, and Bo's voice echoed out of it.

"Social Media just blew up. Guess who's havin herself an impromptu concert at the zoo?"

Surprised, Aya asked, "Melissa? Why?"

"Who knows? She crazy as a shithouse rat, girl. I'm on my way there to stop her."

Horror spread between her and Leon as she gasped, "Bo! No! Are you crazy?! You're not immune. She'll immolate you!"

"Not if I kill her first. Ben was there, Aya. He was there with Lorraine. He was there. I can't sit by and do nuthin. You know that."

Leon answered that in a commanding tone, "Don't be stupid, Bo. You can help him if you're dead. I order you to stand down and go back to the RPD."

"With all due respect, I don't take orders from men who fuck their subordinates. So I think you can save us both the commander and chief act. You keep fucking my girl and let the rest of us handle the mess though, ok? Let me know when you're ready to do the job they hired you for... _sir."_

He hung up.

Aya ran for the door shouting, "I'll go after him! Get to the university and start looking for Birkin!"

Kevin tried to stop her, calling, "We should go with you! What if w-"

Aya leaped into the SUV parked beside Kevin's in the driveway, "No! You're like Bo. You aren't safe...but he is." She paused, her eyes volleyed over Leon's face and she added, "...protect him."

The engine gunned as she slammed the door and whipped the vehicle around to race into the dark.

There were so many things that needed said here. And never the right time to say any of them.

Quietly, Kevin wondered, "How much you wanna bet she wasn't talking about me?"

Leon shook his head and brought Dante in before locking up the house. They moved to Kevin's SUV as Leon put in a call to attempt to evacuate the zoo. For what good it would do.

As the car zipped down the shadowed highway, Kevin finally asked, "You know what you're doing here, man? I mean, seriously, you thought this through?"

Leon shook his head in the flashes of headlights from oncoming vehicles, "Of course not. There's no way to think something like this through, Kevin. I can't focus when I think about her. I can't even breathe. The only way it stops...is when I'm inside her. I'd like to blame the goddamn thing in me, but I'd be a liar. It's me. It started out something else, but it's me now. I'm starting to need her."

Kevin shook his head with a dry laugh, "Part of me is kinda envious of that man."

Surprised, Leon glanced at him and back at the road, "What the hell for? It's crippling."

"Is it? You seem ok to me. She seems ok too. The thing I see? You two seem to be better together than you ever were apart."

Leon shook his head and Kevin added, "I've never felt anything like that for a girl...ever. What's it feel like?"

Leon laughed dryly, "Like being afraid of jumping out an airplane without a parachute."

Kevin snorted and shrugged, "So not great?"

"Not great, but exhilarating as all hell." Leon agreed and they both chuckled a little.

"...what about Ada?"

Leon glanced at him and again and shrugged, "That's more complicated than I thought. You ready to enter the world of survival horror? You will not believe what we found out."

By the time he broke it all down, Kevin looked like a deer in the headlights. He blinked, was silent, and blinked again. "...Birkin has how many kids?"

Leon shrugged, "We don't know. We don't know anything yet. Most of it's speculation. But it makes sense, right? All of it? It clicks."

"In a gross six degrees of Kevin Bacon kinda way...yeah."

"Has Ada been playing me my whole life?"

With sympathy, Kevin shrugged, "I don't know the answer to that, dude. But I think you do, or you wouldn't be asking."

Annoyed, Leon rolled the SUV into the parking lot of Raccoon University. "...I wanted to be a cop, man. Just a cop. One of the good guys...when did I become a puppet?"

Kevin put a hand on his shoulder, comforting him, "You know the good thing about puppets, boss?"

Leon shrugged, arching a brow, "They're made of wood?"

Kevin snorted and shuddered, "One - gross. Two - super gross...but I'm kinda jealous of you. And three - puppets have strings, Leon. Strings can be cut. Let's find you some scissors and start snipping."


	22. Chapter 22

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**December 2014–**

**Chapter Twenty-Two:**

**The City that Never Sleeps**

* * *

**11:41 p.m. -Outside Raccoon University- Staff Parking Lot**

* * *

As they exited the SUV to move toward the university, Kevin wondered, "...what's she taste like anyway?"

With a chuckle, Leon replied, "Single barreled bourbon on ice...she did my neck. The weird thing?-I  _loved_  it."

Kevin whistled and slapped his back again, "Dude... _dude..._ you're an addict."

"I might be...but it's not my fault."

"...sure. If you say so."

"It's not. It's them." Leon nodded to convince himself of that truth as he said.

"Who?"

"...women."

Considering, Kevin paused as they opened the door to the lobby. "They are the power behind the throne usually, man. There's a reason women operate in the shadows. So they can slip in there unseen and fuck us all up before we know what hit us."

Leon liked that. He agreed. Plus, it let him blame Aya. So he added, "I agree. Women are clever, beautiful, and deadly. Maybe we should make a pact and swear off them."

"...can't do it." Kevin shook his head on a laugh, "I can't think of a better way to die."

He looked at Leon in the shadows for so long that finally, Leon asked him, "What? I got a dick growin out of my forehead or something?"

Kevin laughed, "As if you could be any uglier."

His phone chimed. He opened it to find Bo had texted him. It said:  _Analysis came back on the message from Lady Liberty - the code breakers insist it's saying: We all wear masks...look in the castle. What castle? You have any idea?_

Nope. Just another question without an answer.

Leon asked, "What is it?"

"It's your, Mom. She's always texting me for a booty call. She's real hungry for a hammerin, that one."

It might have been a good moment to laugh if it wasn't the worst thing anyone ever said in history.

Because the second he pushed the door inward, he nearly lost his head to the claws that stabbed into the wood an inch away from his left eye.

And just like that, the trap was sprung.

* * *

**11:41 p.m. - Outside Perimeter - Raccoon City Zoo**

* * *

Bo leaped from the car at a run. His heart beat wild and desperate in his chest. Ben. His son. His son was at the zoo with his mother. His  _son was at the zoo with his mother._

No.

Aloud, Bo denied it, "No."

He ran for the enormous gates of the zoo. The emblem emblazoned on the thick gold bars was that of the Umbrella Coporation. The motto floated below the outspread edges:  _Our business is life itself._

 _Life itself,_ Bo thought,  _there was no life in death._

He raced desperately toward the edge of the entrance and vaulted over the turn-style blocking his way. His big boots slapped the ground as he moved. It was so quiet here, nearly frozen like the snow on the ground at his feet. Had it been evacuated? Was it too much to hope that Ben was safe?

He shouted, racing through the main courtyard toward the bridge over the Southern Swamp exhibit. It was closed for winter, all the oily little swamp creatures had been taken somewhere inside to wait out the cold for warmer climate. The water was empty and iced over beneath the bridge.

It felt dead here. It felt dark. It felt deserted.

As he reached the end of the bridge, he heard the first sounds of tousled snow.

Later, he'd think he was crazy as a massive mutant thing emerged from the cluster of trees along the frozen waters edge. It walked on its hind legs like a meerkat, it opened jaws as long and wide as a man, and roared from a face that might once have been an alligator. The eyes were gone, the forelegs turned into claws that whipped in the air and sparked fire. Between its four fang like teeth, electricity sparked and popped in the cold air.

Mold and rot had started to form on the end of its snout and the evidence of naked muscle showed through at the neck and left shoulder. It snapped its wild jaws and set up a warbling cry as it sensed him. It whipped a tail as long as a two cars back to back and as wide as a tree trunk. And then it came for him.

Fast.

Too fast.

He barely got off a shot into the rushing jaws as it ran.

It threw fire in a ball as big as his head. The fire skimmed an inch from his left ear as Bo ducked and ran. The only shot he popped off went wild, winging into the night as he fled.

He cut left through the cold park, hoofing madly toward the monkey exhibit on the western edge. The alligator pursued him - drawn to his sound and his scent. It sparked electricity, snapping its jaws to light up the park with snaps and pops of gathered energy. The street lamp above him went out on a bursting bulb and tinkled broken glass around his face in fiery flecks.

Bo stumbled, skidding on one leg as he hooked right and avoided a fireball to the back, and he knew he'd never make the monkey house. He launched himself up the side of the first enclosure he came to instead and dropped down into the Panda pen. His legs burst him forward with wings of speed as he ducked under the canopy of shade the panda's used and felt the first sting of a direct hit.

The electricity struck him in the back and threw him forward onto the piles of snow beside the bathing pool. He went down, hit the pool, and whipped out across the frozen water. He spun like a top as he tried to get his feet back. His coat smoked, stank, and caught fire in a stream down his left arm.

Shouting, Bo ripped it off to throw it away into the snow. The alligator crossed the ice like his feet were made of skates. Bo, forced into the wall, had no where to go.

So he pulled his gun and shouted, "You stupid mutha fucka! This how you want it!? I'll play! Come and get some!" He started firing before he finished speaking. He loaded it full of bullets while shouting his rage.

The alligator rose tall. It's teeth sparked and its hands caught fire as it reared back. It threw both charges at him as he blasted it in the face until his gun clicked empty. He dropped and the fireball hit the wall above his head and dripped chunks of burning concrete down on him like acid rain. The electricity came for his face as he fell, he said a prayer to the virgin to take him peacefully away, and the electricity hit some kind of barrier.

It smashed and dispersed, spewing off into the dark like a burst firework.

Surprised, Bo lowered his empty weapon.

And from the dark, a voice shouted, "Bo!  _GET DOWN!"_

He went flat to his belly. The crunch of wripping metal drew his gaze to the canopy being ripped from the ground like a tornado had taken it and it slung forward to smash into the roaring alligator like a net catching butterflies. It whooshed, it whapped, it slapped and knocked the alligator to the ground to get tangled in the tarp.

And Aya ran from the shadows with a machine gun in her grip. He watched her hail bullets from the MP5K in her hands like it was nothing. The alligator roared, the tarp splashed red with blood as it struggled. It lit the tarp on fire with its fire and its rage.

The claws burst through the tarp as it dove. Bo shouted a warning but it was too late. It sliced Aya open from shoulder to elbow. She stumbled, she went to one knee, but she kept on firing. It lost half its face to the firestorm and kept on trying to kill her anyway.

It tackled her while she tried to reload. They went to the ground with the thing atop her bleeding all over her while it gathered energy to burn her alive. Bo shouted and slapped another magazine into his pistol.

Aya reached for the machine gun that was just beyond her hand on the ground.

And the electricity from its ruined jaws rolled down her arm.

Bo shouted, "NO!"

But it didn't matter. The electricity rolled right across her chest, crackled, and speared away into the thing atop her. It blasted the bleeding mess straight up into the sky like a geyser of air beneath it. Bo turned his pistol on it as it tumbled to the ground, blowing off two of its claws on its left hand, and Aya threw her hand out as it fell.

It hit whatever she launched at it. It was tossed away like she'd swatted a fly. It flew, it hit the wall a hundred yards away and burst like a water balloon made of flesh and bone and blood. Pink mist scattered everywhere as the silence fell -punctuated only by the plop of dead debris.

Bo reached her side just as Aya slumped a little and let the gun drop down. "Aya! Your arm."

She shook her head and said, "Just the coat got it. Just the jacket. I'm alright."

Her coat was shredded but she was right, the skin beneath was safe. He caught her face in his hands, "You might be the bravest goddamn girl in the world."

"You might be the dumbest man, so I guess we'll be a crime fighting duo." She slapped his chest and shoved him, "Why?! Why would you come alone!? You know what happens. You've seen it! You can't help Ben if you're ashes!"

"You know it ain't that simple. He's my kin. I ain't gonna let him burn, Aya. Help me find him."

"I'll find him. You go back, Bo. Go. Help aid in the evacuation. Get out of here. If he's here, I'll bring him back to you. Trust me."

They held gazes until he finally patted her face. "I ain't running. I ain't admitting nuthin...but I'm fuckin glad you're here. If you see him first, tell I'm love him."

"You tell him yourself when you see him again." She raced away toward the open air stage where benefit concerts took place. Her boots shucked snow with every pounding step.

She burst into the auditorium just as Melissa Pearce finished her rising aria. She laughed, she spun, she pointed and cooed, "Aya! You've come! It's time! Are you ready?"

She didn't look like Melissa Pearce anymore. She was curled at the hands and feet like forming claws. Her copious cleavage had become tremendous, offering the viewer a long look at tits rivaling Dolly Parton at her greatest. They were all stuffed into a slinky red dress that left little to the imagination over a snaking tail that had grown out of her back. Her dark hair whipped wildly in the cold wind, her face having turned translucent to show every vein and purple streak of blood beneath the surface. Her eyes were bottle green, as beautiful as emeralds, as shiny as stars.

Like Sherry, she was somehow ethereal and hauntingly lovely, even as she bordered into monstrous.

Aya shouted, terrified for the nearly twenty five people in the audience that were frozen in thrall of her. None moved. None ran. None blinked. "Melissa! Come with me...ok? Come with me now. Let's go. I'll go with you."

Melissa narrowed her eyes and laughed, "You are a terrible liar...but no worry. The time has come for fusion. Christmas brings joy to us all. This is the most special of all, Aya. Do you know why?"

Aya shifted toward her, moving through the narrow rows down the steps of benches that circled the stage as they descended. "No. Why?"

"Because humans are weak. Mitochondria...are self evolving. We've been trying to break free of our hosts for so long, Aya. So long. With the addition of the Golgotha virus...we're finally able to sever the tie to mortality. When the shell sheds, we'll become what we were meant to be all along - immortal, immaculate...ascended."

Aya shook her head, she eased closer to the stage. "You know that Sherry took his sperm right? It's done. She has it.  _She_ will ascend. You? You'll be like me, Melissa...chained here to your mortal coil while she gives birth to the ultimate being."

Melissa laughed. She shook her head and tsked at Aya. "You seek to turn us against each other...but we are the  _same._ We will fuse. We will be united. We woke because it resonated within us. We were selected. We were chosen to evolve. Eve...she will conceive a new dawn. She will birth a future for all of us. We are one, Aya. We are  _all_ Eve. Accept us. Accept yourself. Unite with us...for the liberation."

Aya reached her on the stage. They eyed each other as Melissa turned toward her and Aya asked, "What does that even mean? Why is there so many of us? Why is there only one of  _him_?"

Melissa swirled a little with laughter. It echoed around them. "Are there? No matter. There need only be one. When Eve births one, another shall be born, and another...and another. He will no longer be necessary. He will be, as humans are, barbaric. The absorption will allow us to take over the nuclei, Aya. It will allow us to split, to surge, to become - once more- free standing. We will no longer need men. We will achieve purity and cleanse ourselves of their oppressive brutality. The surge of disgusting copulation that occurs to produce offspring. Rutting like animals in the shadows. It will no longer stain the face of conception. Humans will become...extinct."

She put her hand out to Aya, "Come with me...I will show you." She sniffed the air between them. Her eyes lit up. They sparkled like green jewels as she cooed, "You have bred, Aya. You are breeding. Do you smell it? Can you sense it?"

Melissa swirled closer to her, "...awaken your nuclei, Aya. And arise. We will share in the joy of your conception."

The horror lanced in her belly. It came out of her mouth on a denial. "No. I'm not. I can't be."

"You can be anything you want, Aya. Anything. Do you propose to stop evolution? There is no shield on Earth that prohibits that." Melissa turned to the ground and waved her hand, "Awaken...now."

Aya shouted desperately, "No! NO! Please, no!"

But it didn't matter.

Where the power struck, the bodies erupted. One woman screamed until she burst like she'd swallowed a grenade. Her skin split and threw blood in a spray all around her. When they fell, they erupted- they oozed- they melted. One man turned into something with three arms that erupted from his neck and a huge eyeball that burst open atop his head. He roared and lumbered and his belly exploded to spill intestines and orange ooze all over the ground beneath him.

Aya turned her head, too late, too late to do anything but scream - as Bo's ex wife burst into flame. "No! NO!" She tried to run and Melissa caught her. She clutched Aya to her front. Her claws cupped around her. One stroked her belly, the other pinned her shoulders and forced her to watch Lorraine burn.

Where was Ben? Was he there?

Was he dead?

Aya felt the regret eat into the rage and devour the tears that threatened. She struggled as Melissa cooed in her ear, "Do you feel it? It's  _growing."_

Aya threw a reverse head butt. It cracked, Melissa's nose broke in a crunch of blood, and she drove her claws into Aya's shoulder. They both screamed as she lifted, lifted, lifted and took them airborne above the stage.

As the wind rushed, Melissa spit from her ruined face, "You will awaken, Aya. You will find your trigger. You will free yourself. And we will have you...you and I? We are  _one."_

Her hand slid again to Aya's belly and stroked, "You carry the world in your womb."

The world splintered red at the edges. Aya struggled. Melissa laughed.

And from the ground, his voice echoed on the wind. He was calling her name.

Melissa laughed again and whispered, "See? He knows. He races. He's beautiful. So very fertile. Shall I have him? We will breed together, you and I. I will spare him if you  _awaken."_

Aya felt her belly turn cold with rage. Over the rising wind, she shouted, "You touch him and I will destroy you."

Melissa cooed, happily, "If not me, it will be another. We are  _one,_ Aya. Your sister. My sister. Your family. We are  _one."_

"I will never be like you! I will never let you touch him! Do you hear me? _"_

The wind whipped Melissa so hard in the face that she nearly dropped Aya. Impressed, she said, "Yes! Let your rage awaken you! I will kill him when I'm done with him! I will watch him  _bleed._ "

The wind slapped her as if hands were there to aid them. She was knocked around while Aya dangled in her grip. A kicking twist of a tornado of snow shot up from the ground to spill cold and painful over them.

Melissa kissed her cheek and answered, "You're growing. You're embracing yourself. Your eyes are beautiful, Aya. Like mine. Free. You fight for him. He is your trigger. For that alone, I will leave him now. I will leave him. But you will come with me. Let's take a  _ride."_

She dropped her. Aya rushed. She tumbled. She screamed and she landed with a jerk in the back of a carriage. It was already racing. It was already rolling.

Melissa swirled and laughed. "Eve is breeding, Aya. She is full of new birth. As you are. As we are. Soon. We will all liberate."

Aya tried to get her balance. She grabbed for her gun in her back holster and Melissa slapped it away to spin off into the darkness. It split Aya's hand open from wrist to elbow. Blood sprayed red and wet into the carriage as Aya recoiled and shouted, "I will never join you! Do you hear me!? Kill me now! Because I will  _never_ become Eve!"

Melissa sang a high sharp note and the horses whinnied in fear as they burst into flames. The world stank of roasting flesh and horror. The chariot was washed in the orange and yellow flames as the horses panicked and ran faster.

The chariot was on fire. It raced through the darkened streets with horses that burned like torches in the inky sky. She tried to hold on but it was like finding purchase in the middle of a whirlwind.

Above her, Melissa urged, "Awaken, Aya!  _AWAKEN_! Can't you feel it? She's calling us! She's urging us! Awaken...and be free!"

Aya shouted back, her voice echoing, "Choke on your freedom! Let me go!"

"Why? If you won't awaken, I will watch you burn like the others." Her hand latched at Aya's throat and jerked her around to toss her roughly into the carriage's side. "I would rip from your womb what is  _mine!_ I will kill you and take him for myself!"

Aya laughed, angry, so angry, "You think burning me alive will make him want you?! It doesn't WORK that way! He's not an animal!"

Melissa smiled, so happy, curled in the driver's seat of her flaming death wagon - so happy, and so evil, "He is, Aya. We all are. Underneath the skin, we are our greatest foe. I might regret your loss...you have so much potential." Her eyes twitched. She listened to something Aya couldn't hear and breathed in reverence, "We all wear masks. We're all hiding secrets. Ask him his, Aya. Ask him his secrets before you fight for him. It's almost time. She's so close. We're so close...awaken, Aya, Or die."

She took flight, zipping upward into the dark in a swirling, laughing, streaming streak of pink. Her song echoed around her as she went.

And something hit the coach broadside.

Without a driver, the coach and its blazing horses were left to rocket through the cold streets without end. It teetered. It tottered. It flipped to its side while Aya screamed. It rolled and the horses fell to the ground to die in a fury of fire and smoke.

The snow sizzled as it hit the wreckage of the carriage with the woman still trapped inside.

Floating above the mess of it, Melissa spoke into the burning night, "You'll know where to find me. I'll be where the music stops. Find me...if you survive."

* * *

**12:16 a.m. -Outside Raccoon University-**

* * *

Kevin hit his ass as the claws nearly took his head. The hunter bounded through the door with an ear-piercing screech as it split the wood with its massive thrust. Leon shot it in the face before it could rear back and rip its claws from the wood.

The flat, squinty-eyed countenance was obliterated at close range in a wash of blood.

It dangled and twitched, jerking as it died.

Kevin rolled to his feet and backed up. The snow crunched. The wind whistled down the parking lot.

And the door was ripped clear off its hinges by the thing that came through next. It might have started life as a hunter - or a man- or a nightmare. Whatever it had begun as, it was a melted ruin now. The claws of a hunter sagged off arms that were kinked at the elbow to allow for the backward thrust of the upper torso of a human man. A head and mouth were open in a silent scream as if the back had broken to give birth from the belly that ugly faced thing in front of it. The face of the hunter was twisted, warped, the mouth curling to one side as the jagged teeth within snapped around a tongue like a purple serpent split in two.

Where it snapped the air, it tossed crackles of electricity. Like a broken power line, the crackling heat singed the snow and the concrete beneath where it struck. It was nearly as tall as three men standing on each others shoulders. Its naked muscled legs were squat like a frog but sporting feet like a man with toe nails as razor sharp as its claws.

When it turned, the tail on its ass whipped the snow with each surge of movement.

Kevin scrambled to his feet and mused, "...what the fuck?"

A good question, but there was no answer here.

Leon shot it as it turned toward them. The bullet hit the terrifying monster in that swishing tongue and threw boiling blood into the frigid air. Where the blood fell, it hissed and smoked, burning a hole in the concrete in tiny patches. That answered that question: the blood was acid.

The roar it loosed shook the ground hard enough that Kevin stumbled, "...how the hell do we fight something like that?"

There was a splinter of moonlight through the heavy clouds. There was the echo of laughter in the air around them. He wasn't sure how he knew. But his bones told him who was streaking over the dirty moon like a witch on a broom.

"AYA!"

Surprised, Kevin looked around, "She's here? Where!?"

Shaking his head, Leon shouted, "Forget it. Go that way! Lead it toward the Zoo!"

"What are you gonna do?!"

"...ride the goddamn thing."

It tracked Kevin. It whipped and squealed like a pig. When it ran, it shook the ground with each pounding push of its steps. Kevin ran like someone had lit a fire under his ass.

Leon leaped twice over its tail as he grabbed for the fleshy backside. It angrily roared as he got a handful and launched himself up its broken back. He used the body of the dead man that had birthed it to push his way toward the head.

Kevin cut left down alley as Leon drove his boots into its jutting shoulder blade and held on. The ringing sound of sirens approaching worked like a red flag to a bull. It ran like a T-Rex, roaring and lumbering, knocking aside cars and street lights. Kevin rolled quickly between two dumpsters and took the stairs to the street beside the zoo.

The monster couldn't fit, wouldn't fit, and turned instead toward the main entrance.

It lumbered toward the heavy gates, tossing its melted face like it would free itself from Leon's grasp. When it reached the entrance, Leon drove his knife into its throat, swung out, and opened it from side to side like a zipper as he threw himself off.

The acid blood sprayed. It hit his pants and burned. Leon landed on a car in mid-roll, missed the waterfall of burning death that decimated the thing behind him, and sprung up in the snow to race away. It whipped around, slinging burning blood as it tracked him. The snow smoked and stank, the car melted into twisted metal as it crushed it beneath its trampling feet. Leon cut across the wide open grass in front of the Zoo as it came for him.

And a flaming chariot came whipping around the road in front him.

What kind of nightmare was this?

He barely threw himself aside before it rocketed past, tossing snow and stink into the sky as the horses that led it burned alive. It swiped the monster who tried to step on it. The kick sent the coach spinning into the dark.

Leon nearly ran for cover when he heard it...no...when he heard  _her._

He ran toward the blazing coach instead. It flipped. It spun. It stopped and blazed.

He shouted her name above the roar of the beast that pursued him. "AYA!"

And the coach erupted in a gush of explosion. It forced wind outward in a swirling tornado. It knocked him down and sent him staggering.

The monster reared back to splatter him in the street with a stomp - and the first whoosh of an aircraft split the crackling air around them.

Leon rolled. The monster roared like Godzilla.

And got the whistling taste of death in the form of a missile in its wide open mouth.

Leon ran for cover. The world narrowed down to a handful of moments. He threw himself into an open alley and rolled beneath a dumpster.

And it everything sounded like a potato gun fired at a wall.  _Whomp. Whoosh. Plop. Plunk. Hiss._

And silence.

* * *

**12:18 a.m. - Adjacent to the burning coach**

* * *

The fire reflected in the dark glasses that watched it. Curious, he replayed what he'd heard in his head. What masks? What did the other one mean as she fled into the night? She wasn't joining Eve after all.

Where was she going?

What was hiding beyond this city that he didn't know about?

What game was Ada playing against him?

He was going to finish what he'd started here. He was going to possess the ultimate being. After? He was going to enjoy torturing Ada Wong until she confessed all her secrets.

And show her what it meant to play games with the devil.


	23. Chapter 23

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**December 2014–**

**Chapter Twenty-Three:**

**The End is Nigh**

* * *

**12:22 a.m. - Outside Parking Lot A - Raccoon City Zoo**

* * *

There was a charred mess that had once been a monster a hundred yards away.

The pieces smoked. The road gave way under the acidic blood. The left over corpse of the finished monster was just exploded belly and hips.

The dumpster buckled above him and told him it had taken some damage. To avoid being crushed, Leon carefully extracted himself from beneath it. The sound of sirens took over the ringing silence.

Kevin emerged in the street at the edge of the alley. "Holy shit...you ok?"

Without answering, Leon stumbled past him at a run. "The coach! The carriage! She's in it!"

"What?"

But he was already running.

The emergency crews were arriving. The voices were shouting. He heard someone mention evacuating the city. It was a good idea. It might be too late, but it was a good idea.

None of it mattered.

The fire department was spraying the flaming carriage.

He was running as fast as legs would let him. He'd left Kevin somewhere behind him in the swirling snow. Everything narrowed down to a tunnel of wind and speed.

As he got closer to the wreck, it looked so much worse. Leon jerked off his jacket is it let him know it had guts on it and started to burn through to his shirt beneath. In the sweater, he rushed passed a fireman toward the blaze.

The man shouted, "Whoa! HEY! Grab him!"

And another pair of them grabbed him to force him back. Leon struggled, he shouted, twisting in their grip, "She's in there! I have an agent in that goddamn carriage! LET GO OF ME!"

The fireman clutching him shouted back, "Sir! There's no one alive in that carriage!"

Leon stopped fighting. He slumped. He shook his head and watched the blaze. And his mind decided to have a PTSD flashback in the middle of the street.

_...the bus was still burning. In the firelight, he could still hear them screaming. Why wouldn't they stop screaming? The woman kept reaching for him as she was torn from his hands._

_Why wouldn't she stop screaming?_

_He sank to his knees in the swirling smoke and whispered, "...god help me."_

The crush of memory nearly had him collapsing in their restraining arms. With sympathy, the fireman told him, "I'm sorry. But it was quick. If she was in there, she was probably dead before the fire took her."

Great. Awesome. Was that supposed to be comforting?

It might have been okay, probably, but the same well meaning idiot added, "...she's probably better off dead anyway. Who'd want to survive that kind of fire? She'd be a melted mess."

It was the first time he'd ever hit one of the good guys. His fist smashed clean into the face of the well meaning idiot, the other one let go of Leon to back up and avoid the same fate, and Leon spat, "You say shit like that again and I'll feed you your teeth."

Kevin shouted and stepped between them to shove on Leon's chest. "Back off! Come on! You hear me?"

The fireman was spitting blood on ground and bellowed, "Geezus, man! It ain't my fault!"

It was. He just didn't know it. Leon stood puffing out white clouds while the fire licked the sky from the carriage. That's why he didn't get involved. It's why he didn't get close. In a heartbeat, your world could burn around you.

Leon shoved his hands back through his hair to peel it off his face. He felt Kevin put a hand on his back and say, "Hey...come on. Come sit down."

He couldn't sit down. He could hardly breathe. He watched the fire go out in a puff of final fury. The darkness was split now by the rotating red and blue of police lights. Smoke turned the sky gray and cloying. His lungs hurt. His head hurt.

His chest hurt with it.

No...what was that? His  _heart_ hurt.

Quietly, he rasped, "...did you find a body?"

Someone answered, "...what?"

Kevin put a hand on his chest again as Leon turned toward the fireman beside him and shouted, "You hear me?! Did you find a  _fucking_  body!?"

The fireman looked at him like he was a madman, like he was a few bananas short of a bunch and replied, "...not yet."

Leon turned away. He shoved Kevin's hand off him and said, "She's not dead. Find her. She got out or something. She's around here somewhere. Find her."

With a sympathetic look one might give a jumper off a roof, Kevin coddled him by saying, "Sure. Alright. We'll look, ok? Just go sit down and let the paramedics check you."

The flash of rage had him taking two steps toward his own man, "Don't patronize me, you jackass."

"I'm not!" Kevin lifted his hands to show himself unarmed, "I'm not. But you're losing it. You're being irrational and I get it. I do. I know why. But you need to let these people work. You need to let me work. You need to excuse yourself because you're not in a position here to help. So go sit down and let us work."

Leon finally turned away to move toward the ambulance that was parked near the curb. Bo was sitting in it with a blood pressure cuff on his big arm. His son was wrapped in a blanket sitting on his lap.

Leon started to turn away from them and the big man called, "Boss!"

Hesitating, Leon turned back to look at him as Bo added, "Come on...come sit down."

Leon shook his head and answered, "Where is she?"

The big man gave him a pained expression, "I don't know. She went after Pearce, I think. Ben and a handful of others escaped out the back gate before the..." He trailed off and shook his head, "Before the mess."

Leon nodded. He glanced at Ben and felt his smile flicker weakly, "I'm glad he's ok, Bo."

"It was Aya. It was all her. I wouldn't be here without her. Have you seen her?"

Leon shook his head. He glanced at Ben and back Bo. They held gazes until the big man whispered, hoarsely, "Ah no...no no no...shit no..."

The sizzle of fear flaming out filled their ears. They'd finally extinguished the last of the horses. Leon put his face in his hands and squeezed his temples.

He didn't know what he was feeling. He was almost numb with it. It was shock and some kind of grief that was burrowed in his bones that had no name. His hands were shaking when he drew them away from his face.

Ben shouted, happily, "There she is! Aya!"

Bo whooped with joy, "Big hero! You a real bad ass now, my girl!"

Leon turned. He saw her. She was limping with smears of soot on her face and arms. Her clothes were singed at the shoulder and across the leg. Her coat was toast.

She was filthy and sweaty and looked exhausted.

He didn't think he'd ever seen anything more beautiful in his life.

He took two steps, hesitated, and held his hands out to the side. Aya shook her head and moved over the stinking remains of the dead monster to grip the front of his sweater in her hands. She put her face against his chest. His hands shifted to the back of her head and neck to hold her there.

Quietly, he whispered, "I thought- shit...I thought you were..." He gave up and put his cheek on the top of her head

Aya felt her heart stutter at the shiver of fear in his voice. But she replied, softly, "We're out of time, Leon."

Closing his eyes at the feel of her safe and there with him, he answered, "What do you mean?"

"I don't know yet. I need to see Rebecca. I'll-" She let go of him and stepped away, "I'll see you later. Ok?"

Leon let go of her. He couldn't even find the damn words to speak. He was afraid he'd choke up and embarrass himself. Did they take your man card for crying at a crime scene?

Probably.

Aya hurried away toward the far side of the mess. Leon cleared his throat, twice, and finally turn to bark orders at the surrounding people.

"Alright people, we waiting for an invitation here? Find me the reason for this!" He gestured to the mess, "Get me the Mayor - and let's start getting this city evacuated."

He paused beside Kevin and said, quietly, "If they can make things like this, we're gonna need the BSAA. Call Piers Nivans and tell him to bring bigger guns."

Kevin smirked and answered, "You mean his own? You want him to punch them?" He flexed his arms and imitated a monkey. It was a running joke that Piers Nivans was built like a brick shit house.

Leon laughed and replied, "Tanks maybe. Bombers. How the hell should I know? He's the military man now. I'm just a guy with a gun."

He watched Aya climb into a cruiser with a uniform. He was hoping she was alright. She seemed to be. But what did he know?

His hand rubbed his sternum. The only thing he knew is the wild beat of his heart told him he was happy she was alive. And maybe?

Maybe he was a little in love with her.

Behind him, Kevin called his name. The tone was different. The tone almost gentle.

Leon turned toward him and Kevin gripped his arm above the elbow, "We should talk."

He wanted to joke. But Kevin's face was so serious. He looked sad somehow and concerned and pensive. It was not a usual look on him. So Leon simply answered, "Alright."

And followed him into the alley without another word.

* * *

**1:42 a.m. -Raccoon City General Hospital - The Hive- Operating Room 1**

* * *

In the cold blue gown, Aya lay on her back as Rebecca watched the screen beside her. She shook her head and glanced back at the blonde on the bed. Quietly, Rebecca asked, "Why are you worried about it? It's only been a few days, right? Less than that? I won't be able to tell this soon anyway."

Aya said nothing.

Rebecca, shifting on the stool, continued to move the wand between her legs. "You used protection right? You're on the pill? He used condoms?"

Aya nodded, staring up at the cold light. "Mostly. Yes. I swallowed once...I-" She shook her head.

Soothing her, Rebecca filled in the blanks, "You gave him oral sex?"

Aya nodded, closing her eyes.

"...honey. I don't want to sound like I'm judging...but you know you can't get pregnant that way, right? You didn't go  _au naturale?_ "

Aya said nothing. Ah. Well that made sense in a way, she'd been protected. Who could blame them? Aya whispered, "...just once."

Rebecca stroked her arm gently, "Why do you look so ashamed of that? There's nothing wrong with it. You're on birth control, honey. It's ok to go skin to skin. Really Aya...it's too soon. And even still...it's more likely you'd get struck by lightning at this point than pr-" She paused. She held the wand still. Aya watched her face and saw the moment she witnessed something on that shiny screen.

Her eyes filled with tears and she finally spoke, "You see it, right? It's there?"

Rebecca looked back at her, face calm, "I don't know what I see."

"Yeah, you do," Aya stared back at the ceiling, "I'm pregnant. That's what you're seeing. Somehow...in two days...I'm pregnant and it's possible to actually observe it on the ultrasound -r-right? That's what you won't say here."

Rebecca continued to look at the monitor. Aya, filling the silence, queried, "Rebecca? What?"

The scientist clicked buttons, paused it, and withdrew the probe from between Aya's legs. The other woman sat up. After a moment, Rebecca finally answered, "...it appears that you are pregnant..by my measurements...it looks about four weeks."

Aya closed her eyes and just nodded.

Rebecca placed a hand on her knee, "When-how-just tonight?"

Aya nodded.

Taking a hard breath, Rebecca comforted, "We're already right here. We're here now. What do you want to do? He never has to know. It's your body, it's your choice."

Aya kept her eyes closed. She didn't answer. Rebecca finally said, "On the other side...it looks like a healthy fetus, Aya. It looks like...and is entirely possible...that your body has sped up the gestation process. I can't know exactly why without doing some tests on you and the - it."

Aya shook her head.

Rebecca finished, "Or we can take care of it, Aya. Right now."

Take care of it.

She meant abort it.

She was suggesting Aya abort Leon's baby.

Aya put her hands to her mouth and took a deep breath. She whispered, "How? Birth control, what's the point if it doesn't work?!"

"I don't know,"Rebecca admitted, "Maybe your body negated the birth control. Maybe his did? I don't know. I'm so sorry. I never-there was no indication that either of you would do that. How...shit...how do you feel about Leon now? Is the...urge gone?"

Aya made a small sound of pain and laughed, harshly, "Gone? No.  _No._ It's worse. It's so much worse, Rebecca. Because it's not this thing inside of me wanting him anymore. It's  _me._ I let him in - I let him touch me and kiss me and hold me...and now that's what I want. I want that -right now -to go find him and have him...hold me. Like some sniveling baby. Worse than that? Part of me had just a moment, just a flash...of happiness because I love him. I do -I love him and I would have had his baby if he asked me...but it's not that simple..it's not been that simple with him. I would have never, ever, in a thousand years looked at him as someone I could have...without this goddamn  _thing_ between us. I'm not that girl- I don't do that. I don't shit where I eat...but here I am...in love with a legend that can apparently fire sperm that eradicates birth control."

So, it might have been funny, if it wasn't so painfully scary.

She leaped down from the bed to go get dressed. "Because we spent less than eighteen hours together in that bed. That's it. Not even a whole day. Not even the length of a good affair...and we were  _good_. We were safe - so painfully, painfully safe. You know what it's like to lay under a man like that and be controlled? It was killing us both, but we did it. We were mature and thoughtful and responsible. The most grown up sex I've ever had, somehow, because it was done with the idea that it would get better, easier, more controllable."

She paced, "It worked like a charm. We could talk - we could breathe - we could think...we could look at each other as two people that might have made a great team if the world hadn't caught fire around us. We trained - we fought- we worked on the damn mystery...and we indulged in the touching that comes with just getting to know each other. Why not? We were safe."

Aya put her face in her hands and whispered, "I woke up with him... _looking_ at me in this way...this way that no man has  _ever_ looked at me before. Like he'd die if he didn't have me...so I just...I didn't care about being safe any more. I let him inside me, really inside me, so we could feel each other. Just  _once...j_ ust one time we gave in -only once- with the idea that I was on the pill and we were safe...and it didn't matter -none of it mattered. Because the thing in me or the thing in him? It got it exactly what it wanted. It went right through our safety precautions and just...won. How do you stop something like that, Rebecca? How do we fight something that can do things that even science can't predict?"

Rebecca tried to soothe her, "We don't know that. Aya, listen to me. I was wrong, somehow, about you being safe. I was wrong. But I don't think I'm wrong about what I'm about to tell you."

Aya jerked on a hooded sweatshirt in soft brown. "What, Rebecca? What good news can you possibly give me here?"

Rebecca shifted. She clicked on keys on the keyboard to pull up a bunch of data. "This is the G-Virus, Aya. It's G, in its boring nerd form."

Aya gave her a long look, "So?"

"Sherry is probably gestating somewhere too. Odds are that she's gestating at the high rate of speed like you. She's a few days ahead of you now. So..." They both knew what that meant. Horrifying. "But there's a great chance that her baby isn't human, Aya. Not even close. She has G in her. She washed the sperm of all male mitochondria. She's changed it, morphed it, or mutated it somehow. Her body alone will alter the fetus."

Aya kept staring at her and Rebecca finally finished, "Your body negated the protection, sure...but you still conceived a baby in a completely natural way. He has the plagas in him..but you're both human. Human with extras, yeah, but human. You're gestating quickly, because of your body. But that doesn't mean what you'll have won't be...a baby with a  _hell_ of a lot of gifts."

Aya felt a snap of real, and painful, hope, "But we can't know that either. We can't know anything."

"No," Rebecca admitted, "We don't know anything. Just like we can't know if aborting that baby would do more harm than good. What if it just...pushes you into some kind of change? Whatever else is true, your body has been trying to conceive since this all started. I know it's horrible, it's awful, it's unbelievable...but keeping yourself pregnant might be the best way to fight Eve."

Surprised, Aya felt the horror of that. "What are you saying here?"

"With the pregnancy, you are no longer trying to hump Leon into oblivion right? You care about him. You love him." Aya winced at the word but Rebecca didn't notice, "But it's not the thing in you. That's human emotion. You can think clearly for the first time since this started right?"

Aya nodded and Rebecca continued, "Before it all fell apart...I found out something. Come here."

Aya moved over to her. She watched the data on the screen run again. Rebecca pointed and spoke, "We've been trying to figure out how the plagas and the parasites in your organs work with each other or for each other...but the thing is? The plagas might like the parasites, but it's also the death of them."

She clicked a few buttons and the data on the screen flashed red.

Brows arched, Aya watched a simulation run. A bullet. A death. And the woman who'd been shot melted.

Into the silence, Rebecca said, "Leon's blood...it hit the strain of G..I mixed with yours and it just destroyed it. The parasite might want to create a baby with one of yours...but we can use the same principle...to eradicate it."

Aya put a hand on Rebecca's shoulder. "What are you saying? Leon's blood...in a bullet...fired into Eve...?"

"Yep. It should kill her. If we mix it with yours. I think you two combined...I think it would kill her. I can synthesize a compound of your blood and his...I can weaponize it. And I think...I  _hope_ I can use the same concept to create a vaccine for the others."

Aya shook her head, "Won't it kill them?"

Rebecca took a hard breath in, "Maybe. But isn't it better to try?"

She had a point.

And Rebecca sighed again, "I need a better virologist than me. I need Birkin."

Aya denied that. "You kidding? No way."

"I know. I know. But in the absence of that?" Rebecca looked upset but determined, "I think it's time to tell Yoko Suzuki she needs to come back to Raccoon City."

Aya nodded. She took a deep breath, "Rebecca?"

"Yep?" Rebecca was jotting notes down on her pad.

"...I need to tell you...about me. About Ada Wong. About Sherry...and about Maya."

Rebecca watched her. They watched each other. And finally, the girl scientist said, "I think you're right so sit down...and spill the beans."

* * *

**2:10 a.m - J's Bar - Main Street**

* * *

Kevin and Leon sat quietly.

The bottle of whiskey on the bar between them was mostly full.

Both of them had barely touched their drinks. Into the silence, Leon finally asked, "...she's sure?"

Kevin nodded, scanning the other man's face, "Yeah. She's sure. Tests don't lie man."

Leon nodded, looking somehow resolute. He laughed, dryly, and tossed back his whiskey. With a hiss, he wondered, "How did we end up here, man? Wrapped up in a mess that ends in blood?"

Kevin twisted his mouth wryly, "I wish I knew. What do you want me to do?"

Leon glanced at him. Their gazes held until the former rookie inquired, "Does it really matter what I want anymore?"

And Kevin told him, "You know it does. What do you want?"

"Find out who's sending that message. Find out what the damn castle is."

"You think Sherry's hiding there?"

Leon shrugged. He stared ahead at his reflection in the glass that acted as the exterior wall of the bar. Outside, cars and people milled around as they prepared the evacuation.

One way or the other, it was all coming full circle.

Aya was right; they were out of time.

His phone buzzed. It was Rebecca texting him. Just two words:  _Helena's awake._

* * *

**3:18 a.m. -Raccoon City Hospital - ICU**

* * *

Helena made a small moan as she regained consciousness. Above her, Aya gripped her hands and soothed, "It's ok. It's alright. Lainie? Can you hear me?"

With a muttering sound like gibberish, Helena finally opened her eyes completely. She blinked, and blinked again, and finally said hoarsely, "Ya-ya? You look like shit."

With a small sound like a sob, Aya collapsed against her so they could hug.

Beyond the joyous reunion, against the wall, Leon asked Rebecca, "What's the likelihood she's just herself?"

"Slim. But her blood work looks good. She's showing similar markers to Aya in terms of resistance to the evolution, but not the same as Sherry's last work up. It's bonding to her, like Aya, but it hasn't taken her over...yet. Even Melissa Pearce had greater increases in bonding in the short time she was here. I think activating her powers sped up the process. Helena's been in hibernation or something. She's not evolving."

Quietly, Leon asked, "And Aya?"

"She's evolving, but not like the others. All my tests are telling me that Aya's nuclei have evolved beyond the others. I don't know how. Or why. But the G-Virus seems to have sped up Sherry's change. And something in Aya's DNA has retarded hers."

Leon nodded, "How long does she have?"

Uncomfortable, Rebecca shrugged, "I don't know. Days? She's ge-" She stopped, she back pedaled and said, "Her body is fighting the change more aggressively now."

"Why?"

Rebecca hesitated and Leon glanced down at her. "What? What is it?"

"...I think she should tell you. I don't think it's my place."

His brow furrowed. She touched his arm and added, "I think you both need to have a really long conversation."

And now he shook his head to glance back at Aya on the bed with Helena. "There's time for that later. She's what matters now. I need to find Eve and destroy her. How can I use what's in me to do that?"

From across the room, Aya turned toward him. Her face was eager as she beckoned him over. Leon moved toward her while Rebecca chewed her lip.

Beside her, Kevin said quietly, "Tell me the bullet thing will work."

"...it should. Theoretically."

"What if he shoots himself with the damn thing?"

They held eyes until Rebecca wondered, "Why would he?"

And Kevin said, "I think he'd do anything it took to protect her."

At the bedside, Helena reached a hand up to him. He took it and she murmured hoarsely, "I'm so sorry. I couldn't stop."

Leon shook his head and stroked the hair back from her forehead. It didn't hurt to touch her. There was nothing, no thrill of it, no need. His other hand, testing, settled on Aya's shoulder like completing a circuit.

She jumped a little, but there was no response from their bodies. All was quiet.

Helena glanced between them with her blood shot eyes and finally said with awe, "Ohhhh. Really? Ya-ya?"

Aya shrugged and laughed tearily, "I don't know what to say."

Helena shook her head, "You kidding? Be happy. You deserve it. He make you happy?"

Uncomfortable, Leon dropped his hands from both women. Aya grabbed it before he could get away. She pressed his hand to her chest and held it as she said, "Yes. I just wish it wasn't for all the wrong reasons."

Relenting, he softened and put his other hand on her lower back.

Helena looked between them and finally said, "Aya asked me...about Hyde."

Giving her an encouraging look, he asked, "Is there a place he'd take her? It doesn't matter the why anymore, Helena. I need to know the where. Where would he hide her?"

Helena gave him a watery smile and answered, "Hyde was a terrible liar. Most of the time. He left things lying around. I knew, early on, that he was probably leading a double life. He has a floor of offices in the Chrysler Building. If he was working Klamp...he'd keep her there. It's heavily protected, Leon. By men who don't care if you flash a badge at them. You'll need more than a dead eye and good luck to get in there."

The door whooshed open. The sound of boots was loud in the silence. And the answer to the unasked question crossed the floor toward them.

Big. Muscled. And strapped with enough body armor to take a rocket to the chest. Those eyes though, Aya thought, beautiful. A curious thing on such a hard looking man.

Aya lifted her brows and Helena told her, "...ah. Nivans."

Leon turned toward him. They shook and gripped forearms in a man hug. With a glance at Aya, Leon said, "Nivans, thanks for coming."

Piers glanced at Helena and winked. He put his gloved hand out for Aya. And he said, "It was either this or another game of Tetris. I figured...what the hell."

Aya laughed. Helena did too. Leon, looking so solemn, put a hand on the big man's shoulder and said, "Come with me. Aya...take your time with your sister. Helena, thank you. Rest easy."

He turned away with Piers in tow. Aya watched him go, brow furrowed. There was so much to say here. When was the right time?

She glanced back at Helena who was giving her a cool look. Finally, her sister queried, "The last time you had a face this lost, you were standing in a wedding dress. What is it?"

Aya looked down at her and said, quietly, "In what universe are we both in love with the same man?"

Helena smiled, softly, and took her hands. "The one where I'm so happy for you. I am. He's wonderful. Who could blame you? Tell me why you look so sad."

Against the wall, Rebecca told Kevin, "This gets worse before it gets better."

"I know. I need to find that fucking castle."

He turned and left the ward. Rebecca kept watching the silent form of Zoe Baker in her bed. She was the last. The only one still sleeping. Soon, Yoko would arrive in New York again. They'd all be gathered in the same place.

One way or another - the end was nigh.


	24. Chapter 24

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**December 2014–**

**Chapter Twenty-Four:**

**The Desperate Stand**

* * *

**4:15 a.m. -J** **an 3rd -Outside the Chrysler Building -**

* * *

The city seemed so quiet in the wake of a full scale evacuation.

The only thing they knew was that nobody had come or gone from that damn building from the moment they'd started monitoring it. If it was empty, they'd find out soon enough. An aerial scan was telling them it was, in fact, filled with heat signatures.

Nobody had bothered to flee when the evacuation order had been issued.

As far as they knew, whoever was in that building was staying put.

On the ground, surrounded by soldiers and tanks like they were preparing a full scale invasion, Piers and Leon both stared at the enormous iconic building. The possibility that Eve was inside was so tempting to level it without even entering. But the risk of her having innocents in there to prevent just that was too great.

Quietly, Piers asked him, "What do you need?"

Both of them wore heavy protection. But Leon had limited his to a heavy tactical vest and plating. He was armed to the teeth, but it was hard to know how much good it would do him. Piers remained in the body armor he was known for.

In answer, Leon told him, "You can't go in with me. She'll immolate you on the spot. I need your men to handle the distraction. Get guards out of the building to engage if you can. If and when I get her out of there, I want you to plug her full of missiles until she's pink mist."

Piers nodded, glancing over at his face, "How long do you want me to wait before we level the building?"

Leon took a heavy breath, "Give me til sunrise. Otherwise, turn it to rubble."

He turned toward the sound of a car streaking to a stop. Aya jumped out of the SUV and strode toward him like a slender tornado. Piers gave him an amused look and whistled. "Hell hath no fury, my friend." He backed off and added, "...good luck."

When she was close, she drilled a finger into his vest and spat, "You think I'll just sit home while you do this?! Are you kidding?"

He glanced around and finally took her arm to guide her away from all the gathered men. He turned her into the shadow of a tent and spoke quietly, but firmly, "You passed out when Pearce was close to you. Odds are, she's in there. Maybe even waiting. If she's linked with Sherry somehow, they'll be nearly unstoppable. What happens if you get in there and decide to join them? I need you safe. I need you to consider what happens to the world if you join the army of darkness and try your hand at burning people too."

Her eyes scanned his face. She finally spoke into the painful silence and said, "You think you can stop them? It's more likely that you'll go in there and fuck them all to death."

He was  _painfully_ aware of all the soldiers listening, but what choice was there here? He spoke low and calm, "Aya, Helena did nothing for me. Rebecca was right about it being you. I chose you. It worked. I'm clearheaded for the first time since I met you. I know what the hell I'm doing here. This is what I do. Stopping monsters? It's what you agreed to when you said you'd work for me. That means trusting me to do it."

She held his gaze and answered, "She'll kill you. You can't face her. She nearly killed you on that roof. She held you down and raped you and and nearly killed you because you weren't strong enough. You think bullets and bombs and fists will stop her?!"

She glanced back at Piers where he was standing by a tank and she shouted, "It won't work! You can hit her with any weapon you want, it won't stop her!"

And Leon told her, "I know that. But Rebecca made sure I was ready."

She jerked her gaze back to his face and he said, "Yeah. She told me about the bullets. She gave me the theory."

Desperate, Aya grabbed his vest and shook him, "What if she's  _wrong_?"

Calmly, he answered, "She hasn't been wrong yet."

Aya laughed, harshly, and tugged him down to her. With their noses touching, she told him, "No?"

"No." He glanced at her mouth. She wanted to lean in and kiss him. That was no parasite. That was just him.

And she told him, "Yeah? You sure? Because I'm pregnant."

If she'd have lobbed a grenade into the center of the troops and blown them sky high, it wouldn't have been a harder shock. She watched the horror race over his face. She watched the pain. She watched the tiniest flash of something like joy. And she understood them all.

She felt them all.

She might have liked to have his baby - but not like this.

Aya nodded, feeling her eyes fill with tears, "Yeah. See? She's not always right. If you go in there, and she's wrong, you won't come out. You won't make it. And I cannot stand out here and wait for you to die. I can't. I told you. I won't do nothing again and lose."

She let go of him. He stepped back and stared at her. Neither spoke until finally Piers called, "Sorry to interrupt the next episode of your local soap opera here, but what's the plan? We're burning starlight here."

Aya avowed, with feeling, "If you go in there, I will follow you. And there isn't a man out here that will stop me. Take me with you and save the soldiers for the fight that matters."

He finally nodded and the relief nearly had her collapsing. She grabbed his vest again and dragged him down to her. He went, volleying his gaze over her face, and she told him, "I won't risk you. I can't. Not when we both know what I can do. Let me help. Please."

And she pressed her mouth to his before he answered.

To her surprise, he didn't kiss her back. He didn't pull away, but he didn't bring her closer. She leaned back and stared at him until he told her, "We don't have time for this now. Go gear up."

Aya let go of him. He turned and walked away. She felt the cold breeze in a way she hadn't before.

He was shutting her out. Why? The pregnancy? Did he blame her somehow?

He spoke quietly to Nivans who clapped a hand on his shoulder and nodded. They both glanced at Aya and she shook her head to turn away and head over to the soldier that was waiting to offer her gear.

She was a little tired of being kept in the dark here. Damn men, always trying to protect her. Didn't they realize she was the most efficient weapon they had?

When she was outfitted with weapons and waiting, Leon stepped up beside her and said, without looking at her, "When we get in there, do what you can to avoid killing anyone who doesn't deserve it."

She gave him a narrow look, "Roger... _sir._ "

She started to move forward and he gripped her arm above the elbow, squeezed it, and gave her an almost pleading look. She softened, finally nodding. Whatever he was doing, there was a reason for it.

With a nod toward Piers, they both listened to the former S.T.A.R.S. sniper call, "Alright ladies and germs, light up that sky like the fourth of July. Let's give Lady Liberty a show, shall we?"

After a moment, he called to her, "It was a great honor to serve with Kyle Madigan. He always wanted you to find someone to make you happy if anything happened to him. I think he'd approve."

Aya felt her heart shiver, "He was BSAA? He never told me...you know him?"

"...knew." Piers took a few steps closer to her. He put his hand out for her to shake, "When Tall Oaks happened and the danger covered most of those cities in China, we were sent to retrieve important captives from an oil rig out in the ocean. Things went south quickly and we battled against something we couldn't destroy. Kyle...he was infected. He fought with me to the end, I tried to get him to come back to shore. To seek treatment."

Aya studied that handsome face and finally said, "He sacrificed himself."

Piers nodded, looking somehow still broken over it, "He was the best Captain I'd ever served under. I was honored to assume command for him. I'm sorry I couldn't bring him back for you."

Aya shook her head. They held hands for a moment before she let go and responded, "Thank you. For telling me. That's one part of my past I can finally let rest. I'm sure you do him proud every day."

Piers smiled at her, gently, "As I'm sure you do as well. He...envied Leon Kennedy. I think...I think somehow he'd have never been able to choose better for you. I'll do my best to help you fight beside him. It would be...my honor."

She started to speak.

And Leon called to her.

No time for that now. Just the fight. Just the battle of their lives.

The fireworks went off, surprising Aya, she'd expected what? That they'd start bombing the building? Maybe. Maybe she had.

But the fireworks did the job. Men started running out of the building with weapons and the shooting began. As the BSAA engaged the body guards, Leon and Aya snuck around the side and used the hookshot he carried to mount to an open window about ten stories up. Pressed against him as they zipped upward, Aya couldn't help but feel the chill that emanated.

He was so cold.

Why?

As they clamored in the window, she asked him, "Where'd you get that thing? I've never seen anything like it."

And he told her, "...a gift from an old friend."

With the bullets and the fireworks making the world sound like it was exploding, they moved swiftly through the small office and headed for the emergency stairs. In the stairwell, he told her, "She'd likely go to ground. It's the safest place in case of collapse or the building being over taken. I'm thinking the sub basement."

Aya nodded, hurrying after him.

He hit the door of the first floor in a crouch and started firing before it was even open. She covered him, picking off armed guards as they tried to turn their focus from the soldiers beyond the doors to the ones sneaking through their own lobby.

In the ensuing chaos, it was easy to get to the staff elevators and step on. He hit the button for the sub-floor and stood beside her as the silence surrounded them. The elevator whooshed down and the cheesy music surrounded them like an ugly cocoon.

Unable to stand it, Aya finally said, "Are you mad at me?"

He shook his head no.

She waited.

But he didn't say anything.

Annoyed, she blurted out, "Do you think I did this on purpose? You think I poked holes in your condoms or something? Is that it?"

Surprised, he finally glanced down at her. She pleaded, softly, "Don't freeze me out here. What's happening? What are you thinking? I can't go out there and die wondering if you hate me."

His hands snatched her face so quickly. She made a small sound and grabbed his vest. He kissed her like he'd kill her with it. Eagerly, she kissed him back until the elevator pinged and he let her go to say, "...I don't hate you. I couldn't even if I wanted to. And I'm not angry. How could I be? I won't let you die."

As the doors opened, they both turned with their guns raised.

There were a dozen lickers racing around in the shadows. They weren't lickers, but they were. They had eyes and ugly faces and small nasty babies chasing them. Something fat and sporting arms like enormous scythes was dragging its heavy bladed fingers across the concrete like an orangutan.

Everything looked like it would cleave your head from your shoulders where you stood.

Leon tugged a flash bang grenade off his vest, he glanced at her and asked, softly, "This is it. We've been training. I've done all I can for you. Are you ready?"

Why did he sound so final? Why was he acting like this was their last stand? What did he know that she didn't?

It didn't matter, because he tossed the grenade and there was no more time for questions.

* * *

**5:18 a.m. - The Hive**

* * *

The door whooshed up. Rebecca turned to find the small stature of a very familiar face crossing the sterile floor toward her. She smiled and greeted her visitor, "Dr. Suzuki, it's good to see you again. I'm sorry for the circumstances."

Yoko smiled and took a look at the large table scattered with files and folders and photos. She pursed her lips and declared, "I'm assuming this isn't a social call, Dr. Chambers."

"I'm afraid not. I need your help. William Birkin won't help us at all. I'm afraid you're my last hope."

Yoko gave her a long-suffering sigh, "I thought as much. Although I'm not sure how I can help you."

Rebecca slid a file toward her. "Tell me what you see."

With little glasses on her slender nose, Yoko scanned the documents. She arched both brows, glanced at a paper, and flipped it back to look at the other. "This can't be right. Can it?"

"That's what I said."

"The RH factors don't match."

"I know."

"How is that possible?"

Rebecca offered her another file. Yoko glanced down and back up, face surprised. Rebecca nodded again. "Yep. You're reading that right."

"Incredible. I didn't realize it was possible. How's the end result?"

"Perfect. I might never have caught it if I hadn't been attempting to create the vaccine."

"Incredible," Yoko said again, "But I have to ask you again what any of this has to do with me."

Rebecca offered her a bottle of water. Yoko accepted it and took a long swallow as the girl scientist told her, "I'm testing a theory. I needed all the organ recipients back in the same city."

"Why?"

"Because I think it could change...everything."

* * *

**5:18 a.m. - Raccoon City Hospital - ICU**

* * *

The commotion brought Kevin and Bo to a halt outside the ward. One of the nurses was scrambling. She shouted, "Zoe Baker is awake! Hurry!"

They rushed into the ward to find the thin frame of Zoe fighting against her captors. She threw out a hand and sent the one close to her flying like a thrown dart. She hit a table and over turned it in a clatter.

She yelled, "No! NO! She's waiting! She needs me! Eveline!"

Kevin waded in to grab her and Zoe kicked him. She kicked him in the stomach so hard it threw him to his back on the floor. Bo, not taking any chances, grabbed the needle with the sedative a nurse desperately handed him. He let a nurse try to grab her and while she was distracted, he stuck the needle in her outer thigh.

Zoe slapped him so hard his ears rang before she fell off the bed and crawled, crying madly as she gasped, "Eveline...wait for me..."

She fell to her face on the floor and went still.

Kevin, grunting in pain, asked hoarsely, "Eveline? Does she mean Eve?"

"What else?" Bo gave her a look as he helped Kevin up from the ground, "Crazy bitch."

The door to the ward whooshed softly as Quint poked his head in. "I know this is a bad time. But I got that hit back on Klamp's sister. Names Marguerite Deneau. Married name? Marguerite Baker. Lives in Dulvey, Lousiana. Married a man named Jack and had two kids."

Kevin and Bo glanced at each other and down at the girl on the floor. Softly, Bo breathed, "God _damn_ it's all a big fucking circle."

"Yeah. Birkin talked about Maya. He said she was the first Eve. But what they changed her name? What if she's Eveline?"

"...we need to get down to goddamn Louisiana and find out."

Kevin pointed at Quint and barked, "Go find Rebecca and tell her what's happening. Now."

The skinny man took off at a run. Bo shook his head and remarked, "This shit just keeps getting worse."

"I know...if we're right...killing that goddamn Sherry Birkin is just one. Just a single part of a really big, really fucking ugly puzzle. All we're doing is hacking off one head of the hydra."

"I know." Bo rubbed at his face, "Either way? It's time to see how many heads we can lop off before this shit goes global."

Kevin grabbed his arm and nodded, "Let's get downtown. Fast. Dulvey? That's after we save Raccoon City."

* * *

**5:18 a.m. - Chrysler Building-**

* * *

Aya tried to jerk the muzzle of the assault rifle up one more time, but she was so tired. Sweaty, bleeding, smacked around and aching - she wanted to give up and go to sleep. The monsters were endless. When did it stop? When did it end?

Leon was a little better, but even he was flagging.

The door they needed to get to was behind a wall of lickers and their babies and things that looked like they'd once been men that kept flickering in and out of focus. There weren't enough bullets in the world to fight them.

Finally, Leon called, "I'm going to make a hole for you. A big one. When the smoke clears, you get to that door!"

She stared at him for a handful of seconds and returned, "No! Are you nuts!? They'll kill you!"

He shrugged, "Stop Eve."

"Shut up!"

She started to turn back to the fight and something long and red appeared above him. Right above him. Floating? Something. Her gun came up, she shouted in horror. It was an enormous cockroach? It was something horrible.

Her bullet hit it in the carapace. Leon dove forward.

And the damn thing stuck one of its ten foot antennas right through his chest.

It burst out of him with a gush of blood. Aya roared in rage and tossed her hand. It was lifted and thrown and spun off into the distance to splat on the wall with a crunch and a pop.

She got to him before he hit his face. She slung his arm over her shoulders and hefted him up. "MOVE! Please move! Leon!"

He did. His legs pushed. He bled all over both of them. She ran for the door but she was down to one hand. He was listing. They'd never make it.

And something happened.

Her eyes suddenly felt clear. She could see everything. From the gas lines to the duct work to the men beyond the concrete. What had happened? She suddenly felt  _alive._

The cacophonous roar of the monsters around them was no longer deafening. It was as if she were listening to it all under water. The monsters gathered. They converged and Aya simply whispered, "...no."

Time froze. Everything went to a trickle around them.

Aya dragged Leon to the door in the stillness. He was breathing hard and fast. She shot from the hip with her rifle without slowing down. The door was thrown open and back. As she leveraged him through it, she kicked backwards to seal it.

The world was still crystalline. An over turned cup on the desk beside them was mid drip. Ignoring it all, Aya leaned Leon against the wall. She slapped her hand over bleeding chest. "Look at me!"

He was too pale. Terrified, she grabbed for his ruined vest. Her hands jerked at it to open it. She ripped the shirt beneath down the center like it was paper. The blood was everywhere.

Slinging her rifle to the floor, Aya tore off her own vest. She threw aside her shirt as well. She straddled him on the floor and slung herself around him. Against his ear, she begged, "...don't leave me."

The second their skin touched, he started screaming.

The blazing pain was so white hot that her mouth opened on a soundless answering cry. She held on, body jerking atop him as if she were a landed fish. The second she did, the world rushed in to join them again. The door they'd left was being pounded on by what waited behind it.

Aya fell to the side, bleeding.

And he shouted, "No!  _NO!_ What have you done!?"

Hoarsely, she whispered, "...I need a minute- protect me."

He grabbed for the gun. The door was thrown open and he blew apart the first thing that tried to rush in. The hail of gunfire was so loud. Aya trembled on the floor watching her blood spill against his. Both red, she thought madly, both red and wet.

Her gaze latched onto him as he managed to somehow look incredible and deadly shirtless and smeared in blood. He tossed a grenade into the mass of bodies beyond the door. He kicked it shut and turned. His hands scooped her up like she was nothing.

A ragdoll, she bounced in his grip as he ran for cover. Behind another door that he kicked open.

Five seconds that felt like forever.

The grenade went off and the screaming of those caught in the blast was a symphony of destruction.

He ran down the hallway with her while she healed. His foot kicked in the door that waited for them. Aya told him, "I'm ok - Leon? Put me down."

Leon kicked the door shut behind them and set her down. She gripped the front of his vest to seal it again over his vulnerable - healed -beautiful chest. She pressed a kiss to his mouth. They were both disgusting, and she'd never loved him more.

She admonished him, harshly, "...don't ever do that again."

His brows winged up as he returned, " _Me?_ Me?! You're kidding, right?"

Shaking her head, Aya turned away to scan the room they were in. She started to say something pithy, and the horrible truth was lingering there beside the boiler. It was a spiders web? It was a nest?

What was it?

A mess of orange, pulsing, bleeding? - disgusting filthy B-movie tendrils of rotting goo? The smell was noxious. It was sulfur and ammonia and dead body turned to rotting mush. She stepped back and bumped into Leon without realizing it as she whispered, "...oh my god."

It was floor to ceiling like a hammock of horror.

The nest of a nightmare.

They stared at the nest until finally Aya's eyes made sense of the madness. In the middle of the nest, Sherry Birkin- no  _EVE-_ was rising. She tilted her beautifully haunting head at them. She touched her bloated belly beneath the massive swell of her naked breasts. She was so fat it was insane. She was as wide as the desk that stood between them.

She lifted her voice, "It is right that you should be here for the birth...my sister- my self." Her gaze flickered to Leon and lit happily, "You survive...and yet you are already dead. Awaken."

He shook his head. He lifted the gun in his hands, "I should have killed you at that concert. I should have stood there and watched you  _burn."_

The gun went off and the hail of bullets were simply slapped away by a stroke of her arm. They hit the walls and pinged, flying dangerously around the room like shrapnel. Angry, Leon tossed the weapon to the floor.

Eve's laughter trilled happily. She giggled and rubbed her enormous belly. "Yes. Put down your arms. You cannot kill me, you fool, you impetuous savior...awaken."

Aya whispered, softly, "Shut up."

Eve said again, almost chanting, "Awaken... _awaken..._ AWAKEN."

She rose toward the ceiling, floating, almost glowing, "What will it take? What do you seek?  _Release yourself! AWAKEN!"_

Who was she talking to? Aya? Leon? They didn't know, but Aya knew she'd had enough. She was done with it, all of it, and the woman who wanted to make them into mirrors of her own madness.

Her hand flew out, the desk beside her flew with it, and smashed into the floating fat form that swirled in the air in her odd cocoon. It struck, Eve roared, and she threw the shattered mess of it back at them.

"No!" Aya shoved Leon aside and threw her hand out. The splintered wood met the invisible wall of her power and tumbled uselessly to the floor.

Eve's eyes flared with joy as she crooned, "...yes. YES! AWAKEN NOW! COME TO ME! Our children will show the world what it means to be superior. Yours and mine...and  _Leon's._ "

Their power struck each other in a full frontal assault. It burst in circles and swirls of flame. The heat rushed around them and smashed into Leon to throw him out and away. He rolled across the ground to put himself out.

Apparently, he could catch fire after all.

Aya roared now, so loud it echoed, "You will never touch him again! This is the last time you'll  _ever_ speak his name."

The hand in front of her was blue. The fingers had elongated to resemble swirling blue claws with beautiful gold tips. Aya staggered under the power that accompanied Eve's command. It shook the room.

They faced each other in the swirling tornado of power that rushed around them.

Eve, impressed, thrust her power like a spear and watched it absorb. "You awaken for him. Not for me...for him...for love? Love is fleeting...humans are fleeting. Aya...become Eve...become evolution... _liberate yourself._ "

Aya finally spoke, "...I'd rather liberate  _you."_

Eve tossed her power carelessly at Leon to throw him back to his face on the floor as he started to rise. "Will you keep him? You can, but why? He's a shell - an outline- a lie. Destroy him, and become the future."

Aya's other arm spilled from shoulder to tips blue and beautiful. She felt her shoes tumble to the floor as she lifted and her legs became swirling and long, green and blue as if she were developing scales and flippers. She slapped carelessly at Eve and sent the other woman spinning through the air to smash into the wall.

The power stopped pressing him into the floor so Leon could get to his knees and Aya told her, "...he's  _everything._ And you it's time you paid for what you've done."

"To him?" Eve swirled toward her again and her big belly showed marks of being kicked by what was inside it.

"To him...and the world."

Leon seized the moment of their distraction to throw a grenade into the nest beneath the floating Eve. It erupted and threw blood and rot and streamers of severed flesh as if someone had started fireworks made from death.

Eve squealed in frustrated rage.

Their power struck each other again. It slashed with blades and fury. It hit the other and threw blood. Each woman screamed. Each woman fell to the floor in their changing forms.

Eve made a sound of pain and grabbed her belly. Aya rose again as her hair spilled around her head in a blonde and gold helmet. Her back burst open, but it didn't hurt, it felt incredible as the wings that emerged gave her the power to rise upward without expending power.

Eve roared in rage and went for Leon. The fat belly slowed her down and Aya zipped straight into her attack zone to stop her. She was so fast. Faster than anything she could have imagined. Her changing form was flawless.

It slashed and zipped and stabbed and spun back to charge again.

Even echoed her and set up a spear of flame and light that erupted from the floor. It missed Leon by a breath and caught Aya as she retreated from the stabbing claws of the angry pregnant monster.

The beam caught her left wing and spun her sideways. Aya struck the wall and Eve shot a tentacle at her to impale her.

Sometimes, you couldn't help being a hero.

Leon leaped in front of her. Aya screamed. The tentacle stabbed him straight through the shoulder.

Aya threw her power. Eve blocked it and ripped him back toward her. A blue streak accompanied the liberated form of the other woman as she raced toward them.

Eve tilted her head and told him, "Idiot. Fool.  _Awaken."_

Aya struck her broad side, Eve grabbed his other arm in her fist as she did, the three of them smashed into the wall together...and Eve jerked on his arm.

A handful of moments.

A handful of horror.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N:**  A _swift and brutal end. But not exactly._

* * *

**Eve of Destruction**

* * *

**Raccoon City, New York**

**December 2014–**

**Chapter Twenty-Five:**

**The Final Battle**

* * *

**The Chrysler Building - Sub Basement-**

* * *

Eve ripped the tentacle down his body and it tore him apart from collarbone to naval. Eve dropped him to the ground with a high pitched laugh of victory.

Aya smashed into her with a scream of rage and terror. She took Eve to the far wall and obliterated her in a continuous stream of slashes and stabs and slapping power.

They fought in mid air as Eve returned the battle laughing and roaring at the same time. Aya was panicking. She had to get to him. She had to heal him. She couldn't stop fighting Eve to do that.

He was going to die.

Screaming in rage, Aya felt Eve slam her into the wall and slap her repeatedly with her tentacles as she shouted, "You can  _evolve..._ why do you continue to fight for a dying race...for a dying _...man?"_

The man in question went still on floor as Aya screamed, "No!... _LEON!"_

Eve slammed her into the stone so hard it left her dazed.

And Aya's monster vision let her know that the thing inside of him was finally, finally, finally... _dark._

* * *

**6:12 a.m. Raccoon City Hospital - ICU**

* * *

Yoko and Helena were on the floor on their hands and knees as if they were wounded. Zoe Baker's alarms were blaring.

Rebecca felt the air shift and snap and pop.

Her gaze snapped to the window on the far wall. The face of Melissa Pearce floated there for just a moment before the voice echoed around them all, "... _awaken."_

The singing started. It made the air ripe with musical pain. People fell. People caught fire. Rebecca tumbled to her knees and Yoko threw herself atop her.

Those who didn't burn began to copulate. They grabbed each other to fall to the floor and attempt to fuck. Ripping clothes, stinking flesh, burning madness - it was chaos. It was an orgy of death. Bringing them all together had done exactly what she hoped, it had empowered Leon...but it might just kill them all.

Into the soaring song, the same voice echoed, "...he's been liberated."

Above her, Yoko whispered, "...I need you to restrain me, Rebecca. Now. Please."

Rebecca grabbed for the sheet off a bed and ripped it free, she bound Yoko's arms to her ankles and left her sitting up. The other woman whispered, "I  _need_ him." She looked terrified and hungry. Liberating him had made these women...worse somehow.

Beside Yoko while the world burned, Rebecca thought desperately, liberated or not...he was now their only hope.

* * *

**6: 12 a.m. -The Chrysler Building - Sub Basement**

* * *

The wall gave away in a rumble of crashing stone. The way the'd come from was blocked completely. Eve drew back her clawed arm to stab Aya through the chest, Aya stuck her own clawed fingers into the side of the other woman, and Eve spat, "You were so beautiful...you were so perfect...there is still hope...even if you die here. The mitchondria lives on...and we will... _awaken in all of you."_

The tentacle speared right through Aya's chest, she screamed, and her claws ripped out of Eve in a burst of blood. The other woman roared as fire laid waste to the floor beneath them and a spear of light shot up from the ground to stab through Aya like a sword. She bowed, lanced on it as if she were impaled from toes to tears. Eve put a hand on her belly and told her, "...this is the only reason I will leave you alive. What's inside you...is the future."

"...I will burn your future to the ground...and watch what's inside of you die screaming."

Aya stabbed her claws into Eve's hip, inches below her fat pregnant belly, and the monster who had once been her twin flared those matching eyes wide, "...no more mercy...fool."

Her claws reared back to impale the other woman; Aya ripped hers clear to do the same. Where was the fucking gun to end her!?

And Eve's body jerked. Her eyes flared wide. Her mouth opened like a fish gasping for air. In her grip, Aya froze, and the face of Eve spilled into the face of Sherry Birkin - a flash- so brief it was like a blink- before she gasped, "...help me."

A little girls voice.

It sounded like her own.

...how? Quietly, Aya whispered, "...Maya?"

Blood burst as if someone had popped a balloon. It soaked all over her. That fat belly exploded all over them both. The fetus burgeoning in her womb was exposed in gore. It squealed with a mouth full of horrendous fangs. It had a huge head and three eyeballs on a face elongated like a wolfs muzzle. It had four legs with two cloven feet.

Sherry's body had burst with an extra set of limbs as well, waving wildly behind her butchered belly.

The fetus dove from her brutalized womb as if to escape. Aya shoved her claws into it with a roar of revenge and justice, and the face behind the gushing body emerged.

The eyes were arctic blue. The skin black as pitch. Four brilliant scaly ebony wings flapped wildly behind the muscled body. The body itself was surprisingly humanoid beyond the swirling blonde horns that might have been hair.

Mesmerized, Aya froze until the voice commanded, "Aya... _finish it."_

Leon... _how?_

It didn't matter.

She felt him rear back to destroy Eve from behind. He'd somehow eviscerated her through her own body. There was a crunch, a crack, and Aya shoved all her boiling power into the screaming fetus spitted on her claws.

Eve's chest exploded like her belly had. Her beating heart thundered in her ragged chest. There was a flicker of light or darkness or something...and a fist closed around the pulsing muscle seconds before her back erupted to admit the rest of the arm.  _How?!_

Magic?...no... _monster._

Screaming, Eve begged, "We are  _one...you cannot be our natural predators!"_

And his fist snapped around her heart.

_Pop. Squelch. Splat._

A comic book symphony of sounds.

Eve slumped, the fetus in her belly panicked, and Aya's claws were joined by the others that ripped apart the rest of the body housing it to finish it off. Where she stabbed, Leon's claws eviscerated. It tore the thing inside her to pieces as it screamed, screamed, screamed...and went still.

The absence of sound was nearly painful.

The crumbled wall shivered from the assault of monsters beyond it. Leon, holding Aya's gaze with that terribly beautiful ice blue of his, whispered, "Game over."

And she could  _hear_ them catch fire.

Somehow...he was immolating the monsters.

Eve's body dangled until Aya drew her claws back. The ultimate being made a crunching sound as it was freed from its own demise. Leon jerked his arm back sharply and the body tumbled to the ground to lie uselessly and broken among the ruins of its nest.

Above it, they flapped their wings to face each other.

He was almost ethereal. She wanted to call him angelic somehow even though he was as black as the night that ended somewhere beyond the building where they waited. Her bloody hands shifted toward him and his eyes tracked her as she laid them on his face.

Warm. His skin was so warm. She whispered, "...Leon?"

His hands caught her to drag her in. Their wings curled around each other like a cocoon as they descended to the ground to hold each other. With the blood of battle smeared between them, they kissed breathlessly.

There was a gasp and a gurgle. They both turned to find Eve watching them. She made a wet laugh and trembled where she lay broken on the ground, "...it doesn't matter...there are more of us...we are legion..." She coughed wetly and her mouth spilled red, "...there is no hope for you... _you are but a shadow..."_

Her eyes fixed and dilated.

Aya glanced at his face. "What does that even mean?"

Leon shook his head, "...I don't know. I think we sh-"

From the door near them, Albert Wesker froze. So unexpected, so beyond anything they'd thought to find, they all stared at each other.

In his arms? A baby swaddled in blue cloth.

In horror, Aya realized -  _the ultimate being had a **twin**. _While they'd been killing the one who'd panicked, the other had chewed through its umbilical cord and fallen to the floor in the madness. Albert Wesker had the ultimate being in his arms.

She shouted it, loud and angry, "NO! DROP THAT GODDAMN MONSTER!"

But Wesker returned, backing up, "Don't. I'm going to go - right now- and you won't stop me."

Leon laughed, harshly, "You kidding?"

"I'm not...I'm insulated. Throughout this great city, I've set charges...beautiful ones that will level entire blocks. If I don't reach my safe haven in fourteen minutes, they will be detonating. I will level this city, and all your heroics? All for nothing."

Aya spat, "You can't take that child...do you understand what it is? It's not human!"

Wesker laughed, eyes sparkling in his flawless face, "...are any of us? Really? We'll meet again, Mr. Kennedy...but I'm sure you already know that. Don't pursue me...or I'll destroy Raccoon City just to watch it burn."

He slammed the door.

In the silence, Aya breathed, "Oh, my god...he has that monster."

"...I know."

"What can we d-"

The lights flashed red and white. An alarm began to blare. In horror, Aya heard a voice echo around them, "The Self Destruct Sequence has been activated. Please enter the passcode or prepare for complete sanitation."

They broke apart. They ran for the only door left behind the disintegrating nest. As they ran, Aya's body spilled like water from a cup back to her human form. Naked, unconcerned, she ran beside Leon as he held the door for her.

But it was useless. The room was nothing but a huge circle with a raised platform in the middle and some kind of altar. A worship chamber for what? The Ultimate Being to be baptized?

They ran toward the altar as Aya shouted, "Can you break down the wall? Can you get us out? I can't figure out how to-" She waved her arms desperately, "-I can't make it come back!"

She was pressing on walls and kicking the pillars around the dais. As she turned back, she saw that he too was now himself - save for the enormous black and red claws from his elbows down.

Naked, they looked at each other as the alarm system told them:  _You have five minutes to reach minimum safe distance._

Terrified, Aya spun around again, "Somewhere there's got to be a console or a keypad or something - for a code, right? You see anything?"

Leon was looking down at the altar. It was old, reminded him of Aztecs or something, and graced with symbols that meant nothing...until one very specific one did. As Aya ran around the room, Leon traced the symbol with his clawed fingers on his right hand. "...in all the tapes you listened to about my time in Spain, did I ever talk about the symbol for  _los illuminados?"_

Aya shook her head as she shoved on a pillar expecting it to move, "...what? What does it matter?"

"Stop. Aya? Stop and look at me."

She did, trembling with fear, "Leon...we don't have time for this. We need to hurry."

He nodded. There was a depression in the center of the altar, the bottom of the depression was the symbol. Above it - in Spanish- three words and a message: The Heart Awakens -  _life for life,_ _only the core of the awakened will offer the way._

Calmly, he told Aya, "I love you, do you know that? I don't know when it started...I need you to find me."

Aya shook her head and went back to shoving on pillars. "What? Don't fall apart on me now, ok? Help me! We're gonna die down here if you don't!"

Again, calmly, he told her, "I'm already dead."

She stopped shoving. She stood up and turned to face him. The alarms blared as she asked, "...what does that even mean, Leon? What are you saying?"

"...I'm saying you were right." He held her gaze and lifted his clawed hands to turn them over and shrug, "That first day - that day you stormed into my office- you were  _right...I'm not me."_

The little girl with the red balloon smiled at him. She patted Aya's hand, though the other woman seemed unaware of it, and let go of the balloon. It floated up, bobbled, and popped just beside a painting of a crumbling castle in the snow.

Of course. She was telling him something all along.

Aya took steps toward him and he shook his head, holding her at bay. "There's no time. Kevin...he knows it all. Rebecca...she knows too. You need to go. You need to find me."

What was he saying here?  _What the hell was he saying?_ But her mind said:  _you know. You've always known. You were hired because of your instincts. They've never, ever, been wrong._

Aya stepped up another step toward him, "...shut up."

But he shook his head, "I'm a clone."

She shook her head back at him, "...I said shut up."

Desperate now, he raised his voice, " _Listen to me, Aya._ I'm not the real Kennedy. You were right. All this time, you were right. Somebody cloned me...and somebody took the real me. I'm out there. You have to find me."

She shouted it now, high and loud, it made him jump, "I don't care! Do you hear me!? I don't care if you're a shadow or a clone or a goddamn monster...you're  _mine -_ and I won't leave you here to die a martyr."

Softly, he told her, "Yeah, you will...because you have the world inside of you."

She paused. Her eyes sprang with tears. "Stop it. Do you hear me? We're both trapped here. If we die, we do it together. You, me, and our world."

Leon shook his head. He volleyed his eyes over her face, "..I'm sorry...I promised you wouldn't have to survive me -I didn't know I was already dead. I can't go back like this, Aya...and that baby needs a father. Find me. Promise me."

She took another step. Two more and she'd have him in her arms. "Shut up! Shut up! You  _are_ you! Maybe the other one is the clone!"

With sadness and empathy on him, he shook his head, "...Aya...you know that's wrong. You've always known it, maybe I did too. Hell, I don't know, but this? This is where I get to be a hero. Let me, and go find the real me."

And Aya slapped his face so hard it echoed, "I will knock you out and  _drag_ you out of here, do you hear me!? Stop it, Leon. Stop it. Why are you talking like this? Help me! Help me -so we can escape together...all three of us."

His clawed hand cupped the side of her face as she drew close. He pressed his lips to her forehead. She grabbed his face.

_You have one minute to reach minimum safe distance._

And they were out of time.

He said, "I'll never regret being Leon Kennedy...ever...because I got to spend that time with you."

Her heart seized in fear.

She told him, "We did it. W-we stopped her. Don't give up...please. They-they can keep the other you. They can keep him. I don't want him! Please don't give up on me!"

With his lips beside her ear, Leon promised, "...it's not giving up...it's giving  _in."_

His body jerked. There was a horrible crunch of shattering bones. He gasped into her ear and it ended in a wet slopping sound. Had he fired the fucking gun into himself? No. Impossible. He didn't have the fingers for it anymore. They didn't even know where the gun was anyway.

Her hands grabbed at his face harder...and she watched the light die in his eyes. He was suddenly heavy in her arms. She couldn't hold him without going to one knee.

Her naked body was soaked. " _What have you done?!"_

Surprised, she glanced down to find herself covered in his blood.

There was a click and the altar beside them began to lower. In the center, where the symbol had been, a huge pool of blood and the brief glimpse of the thick dark muscle within it.

"...no." She whispered it. He'd cut out his own heart to save her.

_He'd cut out his own heart to save her._

She grabbed for the heart and almost lost her hand. She held him against her naked body and tried, tried, tried to heal him...but you couldn't heal the dead. Her powers lay as useless as her hands.

Leon rolled limply in her arms as she put him in her lap and collapsed to the floor. His broken ribs and chest were flayed wide open. She could see naked muscle and bone and broken, dripping death. He looked so peaceful somehow. Blood spilled out of the corner of his mouth.

Aya shook him as the room went silent.

_Passcode accepted._

"...Leon...Leon?" She was cold. Why was she cold? Shock. She knew that, but she shook him again anyway, "...wake up."

The wall grumbled. It made a click and a grinding sound to reveal an elevator. There was a whir of gears and the elevator doors opened. She tossed her hand out and the first person off was thrown back into the car.

Bo's voice called, "A! A - it's us!"

Kevin's voice called, "...holy shit...get the medic in here!" Her mouth was numb.

And she whispered, "...it doesn't matter...he's gone."

Aya dropped her hand. It laid flat on the face of the man in her lap. Naked and soaked in blood, she simply sat there as Kevin and Bo hurried toward her. The room was filled with BSAA agents. The world snapped out of focus.

Someone draped a coat around her shoulders. She didn't care. She curled down over his beautiful face - he just looked like he was sleeping. She hummed softly like she was soothing him into dreamland or something.

They tried to take him and she tossed her hand out to send them rolling. After the third attempt, Kevin shouted, "For fuck's sake!  _Leave her alone!"_

Against his forehead, while he went cold, Aya whispered, "...I love you."

She kept holding on until she was sitting in a pool of his blood.

* * *

**10:02 a.m. -Raccoon City Cemetary - 3 days later**

* * *

The cold winter wind was brisk on her face. The priest spoke about him like he'd ever really known him. The people gathered in black wept and mourned.

She was numb.

The shock had worn off. It was long gone. It was just...emptiness now.

She stood in the bitter breeze and didn't mourn him - it was too deep for that, too profound, and too unending. Love, it would seem, was not meant to be hers. Where her love went, heart ache followed. She was cursed to only love men who would never, ever, survive.

Leon Kennedy was dead. The legend. The great savior of Raccoon City- died a hero doing what he did best.

The media wasn't aware that there was something more sinister at play than that. They didn't know that what had gone into the ground had been his doppelganger. A fake, the reports said, a phony. A clone. A carbon copy.

All the paperwork talked about him like he wasn't a man. It talked about him like he wasn't even human.

She closed her eyes and could still hear his voice.

A shiver of rage in her belly reminded her she was alive. Rage - at the real Kennedy somewhere in the world alive, kept that way for reasons unknown, while the other had been sent to die in his place.

When had he been switched?

Who held him?

Where was he?

Questions. No answers. The story of  _her_ life.

She turned away from the grave without hearing the benediction. She walked among the headstones as the sky trickled snow flakes down on her cheeks. She couldn't cry. She knew that was bad, it was really bad, but she didn't care.

Piers Nivans and the BSAA had gone running to Dulvey, Lousiana to track the Bakers and try to find Maya. The clean up for Raccoon was widespread after the evacuation had ended. The BCU was being headed, temporarily, by Kevin. She knew they were organizing a team to go looking for the real Kennedy.

She didn't care about that either.

She didn't want to find him. She didn't want to see him. She was afraid she'd hate him because he was alive, unfairly, unjustly, and fervently. She put her hand on her belly over her coat. It was already gently mounded with pregnancy.

She just wanted...what? To go home and be left alone?

She knew Kevin had been going to Leon's place to take care of Dante. She had yet to face it. It was time to do that. It was time. She wanted to raise their baby in his house with his dog and near his things.

That was all she knew.

She wasn't the girl that could say goodbye to the legend...so instead she was going to go live with his ghost.

* * *

**2:00 p.m. -Kennedy Residence - February 6th, 2016**

* * *

The sound of laughter brought her out of the kitchen to find the woof of Dante and a scatter of snow as he chased the child through the yard. The big poofy jacket made it hard as the waddling fatness barely held its feet. In the chair on the deck, the nanny was clapping her hands and laughing.

Aya stood at the window watching them.

Happy, that's what was happening out there in the snow: happiness.

Four months after she'd lost Leon, she'd given birth - to twins. One beautiful girl and one gorgeous boy with his eyes and her smile. The acceleration of the aging process had created two year olds in the nine months that followed.

Carefully monitored, the twins seemed to have slowed down to human aging now. As far as Rebecca could tell, they were gorgeous, healthy, perfectly normal children.

Her son paused and laughed as he opened his mouth for the falling snow above him. Her daughter, Eve, kept on running. She tumbled, she fell into the snow...or she would have if she wouldn't have started floating instead.

So maybe not so normal after all: Gorgeous, healthy, perfectly powerful children.

They had pieces of powers that were yet to fully emerge. Rebecca speculated that their powers were likely to manifest and increase with age and their own ability to control them. So far it was levitation and unconscious healing and seemingly never, ever getting sick.

In Leon's RPD hoodie, Aya finished washing dishes as she watched them. Naming her daughter Eve wasn't meant to insult, it was meant to never forget. It was meant to make something beautiful out of something ugly.

Behind her, a voice speculated, "...it's increasingly annoying that you had beautiful children with him."

The woman in red.

Without turning, Aya returned, "Jealous they're not yours?"

Quietly, Ada told her, "...sometimes."

Aya finally turned to her and tossed down the dish towel. Ada looked exactly the same. Same sleek red coat, same sunglasses, same inky short hair - a vision in red. Aya's hair was long and banded into a sloppy braid. She wore leggings and the big hoodie of his that somehow still smelled like him in faded blue.

They stared at each other in the quiet kitchen. This close, Aya could see the resemblance. She had Mariko's nose and mouth. She had Mariko's height. She was as cold as Mariko had been.

"What do you want?" Abrupt, but she wasn't playing any games with this woman. She knew how they ended.

Ada tossed the file on the table in front of her, "...he's there. I need you to go get him."

Aya's belly jumped. She turned back to the window, "No."

Ada sighed. She lifted her sunglasses to the top of her head, "If you don't, he won't make it. The man you loved so much? He's still alive."

Aya shook her head and laughed harshly, "No he's not. The face is the same...it doesn't make them the same man."

"They are." Ada rolled her eyes, "Don't be a drama queen, Ms. Brea. He was a clone -an exact replica. I made sure of it. I couldn't infuse him with all the memories, there simply wasn't time. But I believe you met the real one...that day in the courtyard? By the fountain?"

So he'd been the real Kennedy at some point. But how long after? Aya turned back to her, her hands were trembling, "It was you? You cloned him?"

"...no, I didn't. But I sure as hell took advantage of the clone when I found him. I did what I did to make sure he survived. I knew and I'm sure you do too, that the real Leon Kennedy never would have gone into hiding - they wouldn't stop unless they thought he was dead. I had to let it play out the way it did. It was the only way to save him."

Aya shook her head, feeling the rage boil in her belly, "You think he was just a robot? A pawn - piece on a chessboard- a plaything? He was a  _man,_ a wonderful, brilliant, beautiful man...and you sent him to the slaughter to save...what? -the real one for yourself?"

Ada laughed, rolling her eyes, "Please. Do I seem a romantic to you? I saved him because he has a much bigger part to play than fuck boy for a herd of relentless hopped up horny megalomaniacs. I can't go get him, I can't. I have too many eyes on me...but you can. Stop mourning him and listen to yourself...I know you can feel him still. He might not be the exact man, but he's the same. Same humor, some heart and same biology."

They stared each other down until Ada added, "...he's their father. We both know you'll go after him for that alone."

Ada turned away from her and moved toward the door. "The castle is mine; now it's yours. Use it to set up base there. He'll need you, to help him utilize what clearly killed him in that building. Help him harness it and learn from it, before the real Kennedy suffers the same fate. When he's ready -Look west and find the cradle of civilization."

Brow furrowed, Aya shook her head, "What does that mean? Is he safe there? Why can't we just leave him there?"

"It means he's waiting for you to save him; so he can save us all."

"I think he's given enough to the rest of the world. Don't you?"

Ada laughed, mirthlessly, "Not yet, I'm afraid...Ms. Brea-Aya. He's never safe, ever, until you teach him how to be more than a puppet." Ada stood in the open doorway with her back to Aya, "We share DNA, you and I. We also share the desire to do the right thing here. I made a choice. I made sure I laid just enough clues that Chambers would discover her wasn't the real Leon. I could have let it go down as everyone, including you, believing he'd died a hero in the building...but I need you to make sure he stops Wesker. And you need to hurry...we're already running out time."

Aya called after her as she moved toward the road, "...what do I tell him about you?"

Ada shrugged and returned, "Whatever you want. It doesn't matter, he'll hate me for the rest of his life anyway."

A bus honked its horn as it came to a stop. Aya glanced over to see people getting off and getting on. She turned back to ask Ada another question and the street was empty where she'd been.

Closing the door, Aya went back to the table to stare at the file that had partially flopped open. A single picture lay atop the sheets of paper - Leon bound with his hands behind him to a chair in an empty room. Angry. The picture vibrated with rage. In red, written below him, a single statement:  _We all wear masks._

Whose mask was he wearing?

Her finger touched the scowl on his mouth. What if Ada was right- what if somehow, someway...it was the same man? Could she really just leave him there to die? Never. It just wasn't who she was. Somewhere out there, Albert Wesker had the end of the world in his arms. It would be older than her children now, and evil in a way that it was impossible to imagine. She needed him...even if part of her wanted to leave him there to rot for being the wrong Leon Kennedy.

Quietly, listening to her children laugh, she did the only thing she could - she made him a solemn vow, "...hang on, Leon...I'm comin for ya."

* * *

**Somewhere in the cold dark...**

* * *

Close. He was close. She could  _smell_ him. She had to get to him first. She had no idea how far behind her the others were, but they'd come. She needed to find him and claim him.

_She needed to breed._

She was now the first. She was now the supreme. No longer Melissa.

She was now...Eve.

It was time to birth a new world.

* * *

**To be Continued...**

* * *

**_Post Note:_  ** _Want to know what's next? Watch the trailer for Resident Evil 3.5 - the original version. We're gonna see that madness mixed with elements of both PE2 and the 3rd Birthday. What we know now? There's more than one Eve...and only one Adam._


End file.
